


Not In Lone Splendour

by Pegasus_Eridana



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha!Dwalin, Alpha!Thorin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Multi, Omega!Bilbo, Omega!Ori, Other tags to be added, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 29,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasus_Eridana/pseuds/Pegasus_Eridana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo wakes up having been kidnapped and on the way to be sold as a slave with four other omegas. Can a certain alpha and the rest of his company come to the rescue in time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ismene_Jane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismene_Jane/gifts).



> GOSH I'm terrible at summaries. My apologies. 
> 
> This is my first foray into Bagginshield fics, so I hope it is acceptable. 
> 
> Dedicated to the glorious Ismene_Jane, who asked for a kind of historical-ish Bagginshield, and I thought to myself, "Well I'm writing my dissertation on Tolkien so writing a Bagginshield slash fic BLATANTLY COUNTS AS WORK." Ask me how well that goes in a few months...
> 
> Also edited by Ismene_Jane, because she's the kind of saintly person who edits her own gifts. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The jolting of the cart over a particularly deep rut in the road woke Bilbo. The chains were heavy around his wrists. They clanked with the movement of the cart, and weighed his arms down. He was sitting, chained, in a wooden cart that essentially seemed to be a cage on wheels. Bilbo felt panic begin to rise up in him, and he started tugging more and more desperately at his shackles and the bars enclosing him.

“Won’t work, little one,” came a voice from nearby. Bilbo whipped his head round and took in his surroundings. There were four others in the cage with him, all fellow omegas, by their smells, and all unmated, like him.

One of them, a man with an impressive black moustache and an even more impressive hat seemed to be the one who had spoken. He was looking at Bilbo with a sympathetic expression on his face.

“Who are you? Wh-what happened?” Bilbo asked. “One moment I was walking home from the market, and then the next thing I remember is waking up here.”

“Yer an omega?” the other man asked. Bilbo nodded again. “Ye’ve been kidnapped, and we’re currently on our way to be sold as slaves to fulfil whatever roles our new masters decide they want us for.”

Bilbo felt his blood grow cold. He had heard of the gangs of men who travelled round the land, kidnapping unmated and unprotected omegas in order to sell them. Being able to conceive and bear children, they were most often sold as concubines or bearers for rich alphas who saw omegas as collectables or as objects that were only good for sex and childbearing. Bilbo’s hands began to shake and he started his struggles anew, breathing coming out more and more harshly as he tried and failed to somehow get free.

 “Hey!”

One of the men (who smelled faintly of alpha underneath the combined stench of sweat, blood, and unwashed flesh that clung to him like a second skin) strode over and hit the wooden bar right next to Bilbo’s head. Bilbo flinched violently and forced himself to stop struggling. The man laughed; a harsh, grating noise.

“That’s right, bitch! Learnin’ your place already!” he crowed, before hitting the bars once more and walking off.

Bilbo felt tears sting in his eyes as despair welled up inside his heart.

How had this happened? Bilbo had lived a quiet, respectable life in a quiet, respectable village. Things like adventures and kidnappings just didn’t _happen_ in the Shire. The most excitement they had ever had was when a man called Smeagol, who lived in a neighbouring village, turned out to have murdered his best friend and stolen a family heirloom before disappearing. It was still talked about frequently despite the fact that it had happened over two decades ago.

The tears in Bilbo’s eyes spilled over as he thought of his home. Perhaps he had been a little lonely because he was not willing to mate with anyone for anything less than love. Perhaps being an omega and still unmated despite having been of age for several years had meant that he was considered to be rather unusual, and often treated as less important than the alphas and even other omegas. Perhaps the life he had lead was not exactly what he would have hoped for himself; but overall he had been content. And safe. Now he was nothing, just a piece of meat to be taken to market and sold to the highest bidder.

Bilbo was jolted out of his melancholy thoughts by a gentle touch to his ankle. The omega who had spoken to him before stroked Bilbo’s shin (which was as far as the chains would let him reach) comfortingly.

“Stay strong, young’un, no cause for worry,” he said. “We’ve got friends comin’ for us, and ye’ll be comin’ with us when we go.”

Bilbo sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve after discovering (horror of horrors) that his handkerchief must have been lost when he was taken.

“Who are you?” He asked, again.

“My apologies,” the omega patted his ankle. “M’name’s Bofur. And our other travelling companions are Kili, Ori, and Dori. At your service.”

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours,” Bilbo replied automatically. Then he shook his head, and pursued his original train of thought. “And how on earth can you be sure that someone is coming for us? I don’t wish to be rude, but it seems to me that there is _plenty_ of cause for worry. Even if your friends do come, what if it’s too late? And by the way it seems omegas are viewed in this part of the world, how do you even know that we’re worth saving?”

“My uncle will come for us,” said either Ori, Dori, or Kili. Regardless, he was young, and had long, messy black hair. “Is there no-one who will be coming to rescue you?”

 “ _Kili_ ,” hissed Bofur.

“It doesn’t matter if there isn’t,” Kili continued, ignoring the interruption. “You’re one of us now, and Thorin will come for us. That is,” he added, a grin appearing on his face, “if we haven’t managed to free ourselves by then, of course. It’s a shame Nori’s not with us, he’s the best lock-picker I’ve ever met.”

“Dwalin will be coming, too,” piped up another omega, who looked to be the youngest of them there. He was huddled up to the fourth omega, who had his arm protectively circled around the younger man.

Bilbo found himself unable to keep up with the slew of names.

“I beg your pardon?” He said. Manners were important no matter what the situation, and he didn’t intend to become lax now, thank you very much. “Who is Dwalin? And, for that matter, who is Thorin?”

“Dwalin is my mate,” replied the young omega. At a disgruntled noise from the man hugging him, he quickly added, “Well, at least, he was _going_ to be. We…” he blushed. “We hadn’t, um, it wasn’t official yet, but he will certainly be coming for me.”

“And a good thing, too, Ori,” said the older omega, who must be Dori, rather fussily. “I don’t like the way some of these brutes have been looking at you.”

Bilbo felt a frisson of fear travel down his spine. Bofur, seeing his expression change, was quick to reassure.

“Not to fret, Master Baggins,” he said. “They’re under strict orders. Omegas who’ve been spoiled and used don’t sell fer as much, so any one of them who tries to touch us loses his pay and a hand. Azog’s orders. ”

“Azog?” repeated Bilbo.

“He’s in charge of this operation,” supplied Dori. “The brute!” he added strongly.

“Just let one of them try something, that’s what I say,” Kili said fiercely, trying to rise up despite his chains. “Give me an excuse to make them hurt!”

“Easy, lad,” said Bofur. “Wait on Thorin to catch up with us, and then ye’ll have all the excuses ye want.”

Kili settled back down with a scowl. Bilbo shut his eyes and thumped his head back against the bars. Perhaps if he went to sleep for a bit, he would wake up in his own bed in his own home once more. And if not…

Well. He hoped this _Thorin_ chap would catch up with them soon.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this imaginatively named second chapter, we learn a bit more about Bilbo's fellow omegas, and see the introduction of some new characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this contains one of the silliest parallels to the movie that I have ever written, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. There was much cackling. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_Jane, who took my instruction of JUST MAKE IT BETTER PLEASE and delivered like a boss.

The next few days were surprisingly monotonous. For the most part, their captors kept their distance (probably in order to avoid the temptation of a group of unmated omegas) except to deliver bowls of a thin sort of gruel three times a day. Sometimes they would shout lewd comments and suggestions that made Bilbo and Ori blush and curl into themselves. Dori ignored them entirely, but Bofur would often return with a comment even more offensive, and Kili would start issuing challenges.

Bilbo was slowly becoming much closer with his companions. The way that they were fiercely protective of each other was a rather new concept to him. At home, his age and unmated status had meant that the other omegas his age had looked down on him, and the younger ones viewed him either with pity or as an oddity. Being arbitrarily adopted into this odd little captive family actually made Bilbo’s heart feel lighter than it had felt for quite a while. Ironic, perhaps, given the fact that he was the prisoner of ruthless alphas who planned to sell him as a sex slave, but the conviction of the others that their friends were coming for them had begun to convince Bilbo that perhaps all was not lost.

In the meantime, there was little to do other than learn about each other and prevent Kili from getting himself killed by pushing their captors too far.

Bofur, Bilbo learned, was a toymaker. Along with his brother Bifur, he was the most highly sought-after toymaker in Erebor, where they lived. He was unmated, and had no particular wish to change that state.

 “Don’t see the point,” he’d said. Then he grinned, the grin that Bilbo was starting to realise always preceded an attempt on Bofur’s part to be as inappropriate as possible. “Got no problem gettin’ this ass stuffed full o’ a nice big knot whenever I like,” he’d said, winking as Bilbo blushed. “Just like keepin’ my options open, that’s all.”

Ori seemed to be the direct opposite of Bofur. It turned out that he was a scribe and archivist, revelling in words and stories and, once he’d got over his initial shyness, was keen to hear any story or anecdote Bilbo cared to tell him. His eyes lit up whenever his intended mate, Dwalin, was mentioned. He told Bilbo (to loud groans from Kili and Bofur, and tutting from Dori) that he had known Dwalin was his mate since he was a young lad, and that they had become engaged the moment he presented as an omega. Dwalin was a few years older, but he’d waited for Ori to come of age.

Bilbo couldn’t help but feel a slight pang whenever he saw Ori’s conviction that his alpha would come for him. No-one since his parents, who had died just before Bilbo reached his own maturity, had treated Bilbo as someone precious, someone to be loved. He knew that nobody from his own home would be coming for him.

Dori was Ori’s eldest brother, but acted more like his mother. Their parents had died when Dori was a young man, and he had given up the prospect of a mate and a family of his own to raise his younger brothers. At least, that was how Ori told it. Dori had snorted and said that he had no wish to bear children of his own, or find a mate.

“Nori and Ori claimed what little nesting instinct I had,” he’d said, smiling ruefully. “I never had that particular yearning some omegas say they have until they find their mate. I would much rather spend my days reading my books and baking, or getting Nori out of whatever new scrape he’s fallen into. Do not let this little one tell you of my tragic sacrifice; I do not want a mate, and so I do not have one.”

Kili was headstrong and fiery and entirely (Bilbo reflected in the privacy of his own thoughts) sweet. He had the gift of a pair of chocolate-brown eyes that he could use in a gaze so soulful that it was a shame he refused to turn his eyes on their captors. They would most likely break in second.

Kili was able to snap so quickly from defiance to supplication that Bilbo had initially thought it must be calculated. However, he soon realised that Kili was merely young and impetuous, and used perhaps more than his fair share of bravado because he was the only omega in a family of alpha warriors. His elder brother Fili was apparently a master with knives, and his uncle Thorin was the leader of their people.

“Neither of them can shoot as well as I can, though,” said Kili with a proud little smile. “Last time Fili tried, he ended up with a tanning from Ma after his arrow skewered her best hat.”

Surrounded by the kind of brave, kind omega friends that he had always wished for, Bilbo was lulled in to a feeling of security that he had never felt before. Their captors continued to keep their distance, and Thorin and his men should be catching up with them any day now.

With friends who had chosen to love him and who he loved in return, Bilbo felt his heart begin to expand and flourish like a flower deprived of sun for too long.

Of course, it was too good to last.

One evening after they had made camp at the edge of a forest, three of the alphas who seemed to have the most trouble controlling themselves around the omegas came striding towards the cage. Even from a distance, they reeked of sweat and alcohol, and their combined alpha-scent had an unpleasant tang to it that was so thick Bilbo could almost taste it cloying in his throat.

One of the alphas produced the keys to the cage from a pocket, and wasted no time in opening it, detaching Bilbo’s chains from the bars and yanking him out. Bilbo yelped and struggled, succeeding in landing a few kicks, but not heavily enough to stop the alpha.

“Drop him!” Kili yelled. “I said, _drop him_!”

“Bert, you sure this is a good idea?” asked one of the other alphas.

“Quit yer whinin’, Tom, and keep an eye out,” Bert growled. “Will, pick one of ‘em, quick!”

Will grabbed Ori and pulled him from Dori’s arms. Dori pulled against his chains, which were still attached to the wall. Kili and Bofur struggled too, shouting insults and challenges to the alphas, who ignored them. Bert locked his arms around Bilbo and licked a dirty stripe up his neck that made Bilbo want to cry.

“It smells so sweet,” Bert whispered.

“Been so long,” groaned Will, running his hand down the side of Ori’s face. Ori shrieked and headbutted him, sending him reeling back. He regained his balance and touched his bloody nose.

“Why you little slut!” he roared, flinging Ori to the floor and beginning to work at the laces to his breeches. “I’ll show you--”

“Nooo!” Bilbo yelled, flailing wildly and catching Bert in the eye, hard enough to actually stop all the shouting and freeze the alphas in place for a moment.

“Y-you can’t do this,” Bilbo panted, taking advantage of the moment.

“The Hell we can’t,” snarled Will.

“ _Weeks_ we’ve bin workin’ fer ‘im,” Tom added. “What’ve we got ta show fer it? Nuffin, that’s what!”

“So we’re takin’ what we’re owed,” Bert finished up. “Takin’ it out o’ yer arses.”

“No! No!” Bilbo cried, trying desperately to stall for time. “You can’t possibly! The rules! The repercussions! Azog!”

Bert spat eloquently on the ground. 

“Don’t see Azog round ‘ere, do ya?” he said. “He ain’t gonna know shit!”

“Always talkin’ ‘bout how you little bitches hafta be `unspoiled’ fer the market when really ‘e just wants ta ruin our fun,” added Will.

“You’re right!” Bilbo shouted, the glimmer of an idea appearing over the horizon of his mind. The three alphas looked at him in surprise, as did the other omegas. “Azog did lie, but not for the reason you think!”

“Eh?” said Tom.  

“We’re all infested, you see,” Bilbo continued. “We’ve got…worms. In…in our, erm, _tubes_.”

“Eurgh!” cried Will, dropping Ori, who lost no time in scooting back to Dori and joining in with the chorus of agreement from the omegas.

“I’ve got worms as big as my cock!” Bofur said (of course).

 “Riddled with them, we are!”

“Yes, quite, riddled!” Dori agreed with Ori.

“Mine are the biggest parasites, I’ve got _huge_ parasites!” Kili yelled with gusto.

For one, glorious, moment, Bilbo thought that it might just work. That they would be left in peace once again.

And then Bert looked at him.

“Think we’re stupid, do ya?” he said softly. “Think we’ll just leave ya ‘lone now? I came here for omega ass, an’ I ain’t leavin’ here ‘till I’ve got it!” He grabbed Bilbo and kissed him roughly, before ripping Bilbo’s shirt and shoving it off his shoulders.

Thankfully, he got no further.

A loud cry sounded from the forest and a knife flew out of the darkness, hitting Will right between the eyes. He slumped slowly to the ground, and was still.

“Attack on the camp!” Bert yelled, calling for the rest of the alphas to come and fight. Most of them were drunk and slow, however; not trained fighters. By contrast, when the attackers burst out of their cover, it was clear that they were warriors. From his position on the ground, Bilbo caught flashes of a golden-haired young alpha with a long-bladed knife in each hand, and of a large redhead spinning around with axes like a particularly deadly whirlwind.

Bilbo crawled his way over to the omegas – or at least, to Bofur and Dori. Kili had joined the fight before his shackles had even been fully removed. Ori had waited until a huge alpha with a bald head covered in tattoos came, struck off all of their chains and then immediately waded back into battle, followed closely by Ori.

“May as well stay here and wait,” said Bofur, sounding perfectly calm. His worried expression when he looked at Bilbo gave away how scared he had been, however. He took Bilbo’s shaking hands in his own and rubbed them gently.

“Yer alright now, lad, it’s over. You did so well, Bilbo, saved us all…”

Bofur continued his litany of comforting words until the noises of battle had faded. Bilbo looked up and saw that their captors were all either dead or had run away, and the alphas who had rescued them seemed unscathed.

Bilbo smiled gratefully at his friend, who was now eagerly waving at someone who could only be his brother.

“Go to him,” Bilbo said, with a smile. “He’s come a long way to get you back!” Bofur laughed and ran to his brother, who let out a stream of words that Bilbo couldn’t understand at all before embracing the omega.

Kili was excitedly talking at a fast pace with the young golden alpha, who could only be Fili. Bilbo was certain when he saw Fili hand Kili a bow and a quiver of arrows, both lovingly wrapped in soft leather, and clap him on the shoulder.

Dori looked like he was scolding a dwarf with ginger hair arranged into three points. By the way the alpha was scuffing the ground with one foot and looking sulky, Bilbo thought it was a safe bet that he was Nori.

It turned out that the rough-looking alpha who had freed them was Dwalin, if the way Ori was currently wrapped around him was any indication. Dwalin was holding Ori tightly in his arms, as though trying to absorb the omega right into his skin, and was murmuring into his hair. Bilbo averted his eyes from the obviously private nature of the moment.

A hand descended on his shoulder and he flinched violently before he could stop himself.

“My apologies,” a deep voice rumbled. “I did not mean to scare you, Master Baggins. My nephew asked me to see that you are unharmed.”

“You did not scare me!” Bilbo returned, more indignantly than truthfully, as he scrambled to his feet. “You merely took me by surprise!” As he turned to face the unknown alpha, the most wonderful scent wafted into his nostrils. Something…smoky and leathery, but oddly fragrant and entirely powerful.

And then Bilbo saw the face of the alpha, and knew that he was utterly, irrevocably, unarguably and suddenly in a pickle.

Because bright blue eyes flashed at him with curiosity from underneath a high brow and black hair, and the _gorgeous_ alpha held out a hand to him.

“Welcome to our company, Master Baggins,” he said. “My name is Thorin Oakenshield.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHAMELESS BEGGING FOR COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK. 
> 
> Come hang out on tumblr! heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com is where I be at.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Character-building and reflection, and not much of a plot anywhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters? You like them? HAVE ANOTHER *smashes laptop onto the floor in true Norse tradition; realises my mistake, weeps over lost internetting and fanfic opportunities*
> 
> This is a shortish chapter, and I apologise for that - it seemed like a natural break, and I am underway with writing the next update. 
> 
> Beta'd by Ismene_Jane, who manages to make my writing miles better whilst simultaneously making me feel good about it. She's a canny one. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bilbo managed to co-ordinate his limbs for long enough to reach out and take Thorin’s hand. It was strong, warm, and rough with callouses and scars, and it engulfed Bilbo’s own hand perfectly.

Bilbo bit back a whimper, and forced his eyes to look up and meet Thorin’s. By the flared nostrils and diluted pupils, Bilbo wasn’t alone in being affected.

Before either of them could say anything, however, they were interrupted by a red-haired alpha jogging up to them.

“Thorin!” he shouted. “That Azog scum isn’t here!” Thorin broke his and Bilbo’s intense gazing session, and turned quickly.

 “What do you mean, not here?” he asked, anger lacing his voice.

“Just that, sir,” the other alpha replied. “He’s not here.”

Kili’s brother (Fili, Bilbo reminded himself) jogged over and joined in.

“Gloin’s right. Our best guess is that this convoy was part of a bigger chain,” he said. “Kili says he’s not seen Azog since they were first captured.”

Thorin swore under his breath and ran a hand through his thick black hair, a gesture which was completely unfair in the way that it distracted Bilbo from the conversation. All he could think about was letting his hand do the same. He got lost in imagining those thick locks running through his fingers. He was brought abruptly back to earth, however, when Fili spoke again.

“Uncle, you know this means Azog will come after us once he finds out. We need to move now, and fast.”

Thorin leapt into action, and grabbed Bilbo round the waist, almost carrying him along as the alpha strode through the ruins of the camp, shouting orders as he went.

“Dori, Bombur, Balin, Oin, look for any supplies – food and medicine - that we can use – take only those which are quick to transport. Nori, Bifur, Gloin, Dwalin, guard duty. Sweep the area and make sure none of these scum are alive to tell Azog what happened here. Dwalin, _put Ori down!_ Bofur, you’re the tracker. Show Ori how to cover our prints and scents so that Azog will struggle to follow us. Fili, Kili, lookouts. Scout ahead into the forest and make sure that our way is clear. _Move!_ ”

The group sprang into action, as Thorin continued to stride forward, Bilbo practically tucked under his arm. Frankly, it was beginning to become rather uncomfortable. Bilbo was torn. His omega side swooned at the alpha’s display of strength and dominance as well as the fact that he was clearly the leader of the group. However, the more sensible, non-driven-by-biology side of him shouted that he was being hauled along like a sack of potatoes and that it was not necessary to sacrifice his dignity just because of a big, strong, handsome, virile…

Right. Sack of potatoes.

“Mr. Thorin!” he shouted, mustering up as much of an assertive tone as was possible for an almost upside-down omega. “I must insist that you put me down _at once!”_

Thorin halted and looked at Bilbo as if he had forgotten that he had been lugging around another person. He cleared his throat and, if Bilbo wasn’t much mistaken, that was a _blush_ rising up on his cheeks.

“My apologies, Master Baggins,” he replied, stuttering slightly. “I merely…I wanted to make sure that you did not, by some mistake, get left behind during the hurry to get out of this Mahal-forsaken place.”

“That is very good of you, and I thank you for your kind concern,” Bilbo replied, straightening out his waistcoat (perhaps rather dirtied and a little ripped from his captivity, but presentation was important, particularly when there was an alpha such as Thorin near) “but I assure you, I am more than capable of keeping up. I may be of rather shorter country stock than you mountain folk, but I am an experienced walker. Got as far as Frogmorton, many miles away from my home, once.”

Thorin seemed to be hiding a smile – his beard was so thick that Bilbo couldn’t quite tell – but when he spoke his tone was warm and amused.

“I would be a fool to doubt you, especially after that display with those…those _trolls,_ ” he said, his tone changing abruptly near the end of his sentence into something dark and angry that sent a shiver down Bilbo’s spine. “Your quick thinking and bravery gave us the time to get in position and mount our attack,” Thorin continued more gently, smiling down at Bilbo. All of a sudden, it seemed it was Bilbo’s turn to flush, and he looked down, shuffling his feet.

“It was rather silly, really,” he protested. “And I’m just an omega; bravery is the province of alphas.”

Thorin’s brow furrowed at that, but before he could reply, Fili and Kili came bursting back out of the woods.

“It’s clear ahead,” Kili shouted.

“No threat of an attack from that direction,”Fili supplied.

“So, Uncle, perhaps once you have finished making doe-eyes at Mr. Baggins, there, we could begin our journey home?” Kili added, eyes sparkling with mischief. Thorin made a pained noise, and walked to his younger nephew, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Captivity has not curbed your tongue then, young Kili,” he said.

“No, Uncle,” Kili said, affecting a demure tone and a submissive posture. Then he peeked up at Thorin, grinned, and flung his arms around his uncle’s neck. “I knew you would come for us, alpha,” he said into Thorin’s hair. Thorin hugged Kili back, saying in a suspiciously rough voice,

“I will always come for you, my boy.”

Bilbo was abruptly reminded just how young Kili was. For all his bravado and his obvious skill with weaponry, he must still have been terrified to be without his brother and uncle. The realisation was followed quickly with a slight pang. Thorin and Fili, by the bags under their eyes and the way they both kept their eyes trained on Kili now they had him back, were incredibly protective of the omega. The same way that Dwalin, despite his orders, was sticking close to Ori, and Bifur and Bombur seemed to be taking it in turns to check on Bofur, and Balin and Nori were making sure that Dori was alright.

Bilbo was used to omegas being on a much lower level than alphas: good only for being sold into marriage, then staying at home and bearing children. Omegas, Bilbo had always been taught, were… not _bad_ , no, they were just…not as capable, as brave, as _strong_ as alphas. Not as important. And, seeing the omegas around him now being treated as something _precious_ , Bilbo began to wonder whether he had been taught wrong.

****

GUESS WHO FIGURED OUT HOW TO PUT A LINK TO HER TUMBLR ON HERE

Clue: [here's](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/) the link to my tumblr if you feel inclined to JOIN ME and GEEK OUT instead of doing other, "more important" things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are my favourite things and I WISH FOR MANY. Just soes you knoes.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of plot, and some exposition. An ex-plot-sition chapter, if you will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be anuzzer shapterr, slightly longer than the last one, and AT LEAST as gloopy. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_Jane, who has a superhuman ability to find time in her crazy schedule to sort out my writing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Soon, the abductor’s camp had been stripped of all useable provisions and of evidence of who had been there, and the party of dwarves (and hobbit) began their journey through the woods.

Despite his confident words from earlier, Bilbo found it harder and harder to keep up with the mountain-folk as the hours went on. The combination of an extended period of having to sit and crouch in the cage, the fact that it was now well into the night and he had not eaten or slept, and that he was _shorter_ than everyone else, meant that he began to struggle more and more.

He kept quiet about it, however. These alphas might have a different idea about the usefulness of their own omegas, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be burdened and irritated if a stranger slowed them down because of his weakness. Even Thorin had disappeared to the front in order to take his shift in the vanguard of the group. Whilst Bilbo was impressed with the obvious Alpha of the group joining in with the necessary tasks, it meant that he currently felt rather cold, and tired, and alone.

Soon, not even willpower was enough to stop his feet catching on nothing and sending him pitching forwards.

An arm shot out and caught him in a strong grip.

“Easy there, Mr. Boggins,” Fili said with a grin. “Wouldn’t want you to only get injured _after_ we rescued you!”

Bilbo mustered up a tired and rather defeated smile.

“Call me Bilbo, please.,” he replied “And I’m terribly sorry, but I’m not entirely sure that I can walk much further tonight. I’m afraid I’m just not quite as…as hardy as the rest of you.”

Fili’s brow furrowed in concern as he took in Bilbo’s white face, and limbs which were trembling slightly from fatigue.

“Of course, Bilbo, you should have said something earlier!” Fili drew Bilbo’s arm through the crook of his elbow, and Bilbo leaned gratefully against him, glad for something solid to take some of his weight. Through the haze of tiredness that crept up on him quickly now that they had stopped moving, he heard Fili muttering something about Thorin and anger, and hoped that the group’s Alpha would not be too irritated by a weak omega.

Bilbo didn’t even notice when his eyes closed of their own accord. The next thing he knew, _that scent_ was getting stronger again, and he was passed into the strong arms which, even after so short a time, felt oddly like coming home. He opened his eyes to gaze into Thorin’s crystal-blue ones, which were looking rather hard and angry. Bilbo bit back a whimper of fear, and immediately extricated himself from Thorin’s grip.

 “I’m sorry, alpha,” he said, keeping his eyes lowered and trying to be as submissive as possible. “I don’t wish to slow the rest of you down. You needn’t wait for me; I’m sure I can get myself home from…um…wherever we are now.”

Thorin’s expression, rather surprisingly, was now more of confusion than anything else.

“Master Baggins, what in the blazes makes you think that we are the type of folk, that _I_ am the type of alpha, who would leave you alone to fend for yourself in the middle of nowhere?”

Bilbo gulped. This was taking a rather unexpected turn and he didn’t understand.

“You…you are angry with me for slowing the rest of you down,” he said, haltingly. The anger in Thorin’s eyes flashed back up, and Bilbo flinched. Thorin jerked back as if he had been slapped, but Fili stepped forward and laid a comforting hand on Bilbo’s shoulder.

“You’re not slowing us down at all, Bilbo,” he said, with a grin. “If you’d actually been more awake than asleep for the past several miles, you might have noticed that Dwalin’s been carrying Ori for at least an hour, Dori commandeered one of the packhorses as soon as we started walking, and Kili just fell over into that bush when he thought no-one was watching.”

(An indignant squawk and a rustle was heard from a nearby piece of foliage, and Bifur and Gloin jumped forward to extract Kili from the surely-comfortable bush.)

“You have been held captive, ” Fili continued, “in cramped conditions, for days. You must not blame yourself if you are not yet used to walking as you did before. And, now that Uncle has had a moment to gather his thoughts, perhaps you can hear from him that he’s not angry with you at all.” He smirked at them both, and went off to help his brother. Thorin shuffled slightly awkwardly from one foot to the other, before blowing out a sigh and looking at Bilbo.

“I cannot apologise enough for scaring you, Master Baggins,” he said. “My anger was not directed at you. I was merely…upset that my men did not see that you were tiring, and that it took you almost getting hurt for them to notice. And,” here Thorin’s voice deepened even more, and that angry spark flickered back into his eyes, “I would very much like to meet those who have made you think that you _deserve_ anger for something so completely beyond your control.”

Bilbo felt that dratted blush creep up his cheeks again. He felt…cherished, in a way that he had not been for many years. Odd, that this alluring alpha (and his impulsive nephews), and his new omega friends could give him this feeling, when those he had known for years at home had not. They had never been cruel, they were just not overly concerned with the fate of one eccentric, unmated omega. He looked up, and saw that Thorin must have seen at least a little of what was going through Bilbo’s head. The alpha’s head was tilted, and he was gazing intently at Bilbo, looking kind and patient. That spark of anger still burned in his eyes, however, but Bilbo could now see that it was anger on Bilbo’s behalf, and that warm feeling spread.

Thorin broke their staring match after a moment to give orders to the rest of the group.

“Bombur, Bifur, start a fire. That clearing just there is as good for a camp as anywhere else. Gloin, Nori, scout out a perimeter and take first watch. Then Fili and Dwalin, and Balin and I will take the last shift.”

Then Bilbo closed his eyes once more.

When he next opened them, Thorin was guiding Bilbo next to the campfire, which was just starting to blaze merrily. Thorin then set down a sleeping-pallet and laid Bilbo down on it. Bilbo closed his eyes immediately, but didn’t sleep again straightaway. In his part-wakefulness, he could still hear the voices of the others around him.

 “Dwalin, as Ori’s eldest brother, I must ask you to sleep on the other side of the fire. You two aren’t even mated properly yet, for Mahal’s sake!”

“Leave ‘em be, Dori. I know my wee Gimli-lad back home was conceived before there was an official mating, and it never did any harm.”

“Perimeter’s all secure, Thorin. Nothin’s abroad ‘cept the night animals.”

“Kili, stop kicking me! What’ll Ma say if I come home from rescuing you and all I have to show for it is bruises _you_ gave me because you ­wouldn’t _stop kicking me!”_

“Fine, Dwalin, _fine,_ you can stay close, but bear in mind that I am _right here_ and if you value your knot you will _refrain_ from touching my brother inappropriately!”

Bilbo felt himself slip deeper and deeper into slumber. The last thing he was aware of was something warm that smelled like Thorin did, descending on top of him. He snuggled gratefully into the warmth of Thorin’s coat, and drifted into sleep as a deep, gravelly voice spoke tenderly:

“Sleep now, Bilbo. You are safe.”

***

Here be my [tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/), if ye be so inclined. Welcomed ye shall surely be. Also I am not always a pirate, I swear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter may well have to be the last one for a month or so. I'm in my final year of university, and my dissertation is due in a month today, so most of my brainpower will be going into that. If I have time, I shall try to write more of this, but I don't want you to be surprised and/or disappointed if I don't update for a bit. I SWEAR BEFORE ALL GATHERED HERE that once I have handed in my dissertation and completed the obligatory nervous breakdown, the chapters will get longer and more plentiful, and we'll see if we can't work in some smut, too. 
> 
> In the meantime, comments and feedback are a source of light in the darkness of the fact that I DON'T MAKE SENSE AND THIS IS A PROBLEM IN AN ESSAY-WRITING CONTEXT and will be hugely appreciated.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo ends up returning to a rather familiar place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hopefully you found that chapter summary intriguing and mysterious instead of evidence that I have lost the ability to write even a teeny tiny bit. 
> 
> IT IS DONE. THE DISSERTATION IS IN, I HANDED IT IN YESTERDAY. THE MATTER IS ENTIRELY OUT OF MY HANDS. I would just like to say thank you to all of you for your support - I got some really lovely comments wishing me luck, and they made me feel much better during the emotional-breakdown part of the process. 
> 
> In repayment (hopefully) for the loveliness, have some cuteness and a spot of angst and then some more cuteness. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_Jane, who is the best editor ever regardless whether she's reading a dissertation or a fanfiction.

The next few days rather blurred into one as far as Bilbo was concerned. Between trudging through forest and landscapes that he did not recognise at all, sleeping on the ground each night, having to eat his food _with his fingers…_ it was fair to say that in one way it was all really very uncomfortable for a gently-raised omega.

_Thorin._

Since that first night, Thorin had been almost stifling in his concern over Bilbo. He hovered whenever his duties were not engaged elsewhere, making sure that Bilbo was not too tired, or too hungry, or too cold. Often, Bilbo was all of these things, but he had got used to walking long distances again; and Fili and Kili kept sneaking him extra things to eat during the day; and Thorin was unrolling his own sleep pallet closer and closer to Bilbo’s each night; and as the alpha seemed to run hot as a furnace, that solved the temperature issue more often than not.

Bilbo wasn’t used to this kind of concern. In his youth, he had been spoiled with gifts and disingenuous flattery as various alphas tried to court him, but as the years went by and Bilbo had remained unmated, the sycophantic visits and gifts had trailed off. Although he had enjoyed the attention, Bilbo had not missed them; those alphas had been insincere and shallow, and too easily confused and angered by Bilbo’s disinterest. They’d only been interested in Bilbo for his fertile bloodline and his omega status, anyway. Bilbo didn’t regret turning them all down.  

However, with this new attention from Thorin, Bilbo was realising that perhaps there was more to this whole courting lark than he had been led to believe.

He wandered along in contemplation, thoughts firmly centred on Thorin.

Which is why he didn’t notice the stone marker in the forest until he tripped right over it.

“Easy there, young’n,” Bofur said, picking him up and dusting him off. Thorin came crashing over and yanked Bilbo into his own grip.

“Are you alright, Bilbo?” he asked roughly. Bilbo shook himself free, horribly embarrassed at the whole situation.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” he said, a little snappily. “I just didn’t see…”he gestured at the marker that had been concealed by undergrowth. “Wait…what does that say?” Bofur cleared the rest of the greenery away from the stone, and read out what was written there.

“Frogmorton, two miles,” he said.

“Frogmorton? I know where we are!” Bilbo said excitedly. “We’re close to home! My home, I mean.”

Oddly enough, Thorin did not look entirely pleased at this news.

“Naturally, we shall be glad to return you to your own folk,” he said, rather stiffly. “Lead the way, Master Baggins.”

Confused by Thorin’s sudden stiffness (and his treacherous brain’s insistence on thinking about other, more pleasing forms of stiffness that could be associated with the alpha), Bilbo turned, ready to see his home again.  

***

Upon entering the village of Hobbiton, Bilbo’s home, Bilbo could see that his companions were confused. There was nobody running to welcome Bilbo home, no cheers, no _interest._ Bilbo didn’t know how to tell his friends that the people here had probably barely noticed that he was gone.

Finally, someone (a Proudfoot, by the look of him) poked their head of a window and said, incredulously,

“ _Bilbo?_ That you?”

“Indeed it is, sir,” replied Bilbo.

“Well, blow me,” said the elderly Proudfoot. “We’d just about gi’en you up, lad. The auction’s underway right at this very moment!”

“Auction? What auction?” Dori, always out for a bargain, interposed.

“The auction of Mister Baggins’ house an’ belongings, that’s what!” Replied the Proudfoot.

Bilbo’s heart sank right down to his feet, and in an instant, he was off down the road, pack thumping and clanking on his back. By the sounds of things, Thorin and his company were following behind.

Bilbo skidded to a stop in front of his house. His green, beautiful, private sanctuary.

But no more.

Boots and clogs stood squashing the flowers as people strained to see the wares on sale. Said wares were all of Bilbo’s belongings, his books, his cutlery, even his _underclothes_ , all on display for the highest bidder.

Bilbo tried to fight his way to the front of the crowd.

“Excuse me!” he shouted. “ _Excuse_ me, I have to get through!”

No-one paid any attention to him, probably only scenting a dirty and tired omega not worth giving the time of day to.

Thorin took charge then, using the advantage of his height and alpha-presence over the other people there to wade through the crowd. Bilbo followed in Thorin’s wake, and he could tell that the people gathered were beginning to recognise him, and whispers flurried through the air like a flock of disturbed pigeons.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thorin boomed as he got to the front. The man running the auction was called Ted Sandyman, Bilbo remembered, and had been one of Bilbo’s suitors who had not taken kindly to rejection.

“The omega known as Bilbo Baggins has disappeared from his home and left his property behind him,” Sandyman said, obviously pretending to read from the piece of paper in front of him. “As he is an omega without family or mate to look after his effects for him, they are being auctioned off.”

“Well as you can see, Ted Sandyman, that is no longer necessary!” Bilbo said angrily, stepping out from behind Thorin.

“Well, Bilbo Baggins,” came a new, female voice from the front of the crowd. Bilbo knew that voice far too well, and he cringed internally as he turned to face it. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, a distant and disliked cousin, stood glaring at him. “I’m surprised you can show your face around here anymore.”

“And why should I not?” Bilbo retorted, too tired and too angry to be so easily intimidated. “This is my home, and my property, after all.”

“You were always such an unnatural omega, we assumed you must have run away with some dirty vagabond alpha as the only one who would have you,” Lobelia said, looking at Thorin and his group disdainfully. “Such disreputable behaviour! And if that weren’t bad enough, now you bring back a whole group of them here? Surely you did not expect us to be _pleased_ at your return?”

Bilbo stumbled back a step, as though Lobelia had slapped him. He had known that he was a bit of an outsider, but he had never thought their dislike of him went that far. His back collided with a warm, solid front and that leathery smell that had already become so comforting to Bilbo. A large hand rested gently on his shoulder for a moment. Buoyed by Thorin’s silent support, Bilbo stepped forwards again.

“Regardless of your feelings towards me, Lobelia, the fact remains that you are on my property, and selling off my belongings as if they were no longer mine. I _will_ have my things returned to me, and my house put back in order!”

“Obviously, you did not adequately study the legal proceedings after your parents died,” Sandyman interposed. “Your parents were under the mistaken impression that an omega could live by himself and look after his property, and as long as you were in residence at Bag End, there was no legal reason to dispute it. But now you, as a single omega, have been proven as an irresponsible and unpredictable caretaker of the fortune and property left to you. Regardless of the fact that you are now back, you are clearly not fit to take care of what you were left.”

“See reason, Bilbo,” Lobelia said in a voice that was obviously intended to be soothing and motherly but instead succeeded only in making revulsion creep down Bilbo’s spine. “Of course we would not cruelly throw you out of your own home. We only want to help you see that you cannot do this by yourself. You are flighty and full of your own self-worth, and you need an alpha to ground you, _control_ you, so that this does not happen again.”

Bilbo gave a bitter, tear-filled laugh.

“And who would you have me mate?” he asked. “Let me guess. Your own dear son, Otho?”

Lobelia’s face took on a twisted and angry expression.

“Otho is a fine alpha, a _respectable_ alpha!” She hissed. “You ought to be _on your knees_ in gratitude that he would even _consider_ an outcast _runt_ like you for a mate!”

“And yet, I would still rather fuck one of the mongrels that hang round the butcher’s than have that ingrate anywhere near me!” Bilbo yelled, red with rage and hurt.

Lobelia took a deep breath, presumably to start screaming at Bilbo, but Sandyman stepped up first.

“These are your only options, Bilbo,” he said. “Either you take a mate, not necessarily Otho, but a respectable alpha nonetheless, or you have no home here. Do you still refuse to choose a mate?”

“I refuse,” replied Bilbo, teeth and fists clenched.

“Then you are no longer welcome here,” Sandyman said. “You have no home.”

“Oh yes he jolly well does,” came a voice. Ori shoved his way to the front, a fierce scowl on his face, and stood next to Bilbo.

“Bilbo has a home with us, for as long as he wants one,” Kili added, standing on Bilbo’s other side.

Bilbo could have cried, both from sadness at losing his home, and from happiness at gaining a new one with people who really cared for him. He allowed Kili and Ori to guide him away, back down the lane and out of town, and onwards to Erebor.

To home.

***

My tumblr is [here](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/). Come geek out with me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the chapter frequency/word length will be on the up now. I shall try for it, anyway, and see what happens. 
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH, and comments and kudos make my day.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The immediate aftermath of Bilbo's leaving of Hobbiton, or, in which Thorin and co. are absolute sweetiepies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ME AGAIN. 
> 
> So, several of you bright, bright sparks noticed that I didn't say anything about Bilbo's belongings and how unsatisfying it was that he had to leave them all. Thankfully, I hadn't forgotten about them; they were just written in this chapter instead, and thus many awkward situations were avoided and I haven't been sitting in a corner, rocking, wailing, "The BELONGINGS, Lucy! How could you have forgotten?"
> 
> And that would have been uncomfortable. 
> 
> Anyway. 
> 
> Edited by the fabulissimus, spiffington, and magnifimundo Ismene_Jane, for whom there are not words enough in the galaxy to describe her amazingitude and so I have been forced to make them up instead. It is also her birthday today, so leave all the comments, here or on her (brilliantissimo) fics sending the love. 
> 
> Enjoy!

His eyes had been so blurred with tears as he fled what he had always thought was his home that Bilbo didn’t notice that a sizeable chunk of their group seemed to be missing until Ori and Kili came to a stop, just outside Hobbiton, on the edge of the forest.

“We’ll wait for the rest of ‘em here,” Dwalin said, motioning to Bifur and Bombur to take watch and immediately migrating to Ori’s side and taking his hand after patting Bilbo companionably on the shoulder. Coming from such a large person it felt more like a punch, but Bilbo appreciated the sentiment behind it.

“Wh-where are the others?” He asked, sniffling a bit and looking round automatically for Thorin. Who was not there.

“Just wait an’ see, lad, they’ll be catching up in a minute,” was all Dwalin would say on the matter.

Sure enough, soon the rest of the company: Fili, Bofur, Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Balin and of course Thorin, came up the path, looking suspiciously more laden down than when they had entered the village.

“We thought, even though you’re coming to have a new home with us, you might appreciate us bringing some of your things along, too,” Fili said, holding his jacket open so Bilbo could see the embroidered handkerchiefs there.

Embarrassingly, Bilbo felt his eyes fill with tears once more.

“You…how did you…?”

Fili laughed. “Turns out that even that sour-faced bitch cowers when faced with a full-on angry Uncle Thorin!” he said merrily. “He told them in no uncertain terms that we were going to take what was yours, and if any of them felt like challenging him, then they could just step forward! Of course, no-one did, so we then proceeded to grab everything that looked important and that wouldn’t slow us down too much!”

“We’re only sorry we couldn’t get it all for you, laddie,” Balin added. “But while we don’t know where Azog is, we need to travel fast and light. A cart would slow us down, and the pack ponies have enough to carry already. We have two sacks with your clothes and money, and a few other bits and pieces.”

“We grabbed most of the valuable and important-looking things, though,” said Bofur. “They weren’t left with much of any value to sell on. Show ‘im what ye got, lads!”

One by one, each of them came up and showed Bilbo what they had managed to rescue.

Bofur pulled his hat off and showed Bilbo the portraits of his parents that had been hung above the fireplace.

Dori had the doilies that Bilbo’s mother had made when she was a newlywed.

Balin had managed to stash most of Bilbo’s map collection into his coat and seemed to really be interested in studying them more closely.

Oin had the notebook that Bilbo’s father had painstakingly filled with recipes for herbal salves and medicines.

Gloin had the pair of engraved goblets that were given to Bilbo’s parents when Bilbo was born.

Nori had winked, and opened his jacket, from the lining of which were dangling Bilbo’s entire set of silver spoons.

“The old bat had ‘em hidden in her bag,” he said, grinning. “Thought it only fair that she give ‘em back – thieves are just such a blight on society, aren’t they?”

Bilbo couldn’t hold in the tears any longer, and they began slipping down his cheeks.

“How can I ever repay you for this?” he said thickly. “You…you’ve all been so kind to me, and now this? I have done nothing to merit such kindness, I’m only an omega who you happened to pick up when you were rescuing your own!”

Thorin stepped forward.

“I would dearly have liked to stay in your town for longer and told those snobbish, self-righteous pricks how blessed they were to have an omega like you in their midst,” he said, the anger bleeding through into his voice, and his posture which still resembled that of an alpha ready for a fight. “You are brave, Bilbo, and strong, and you do not deserve the treatment to which those _idiots_ have subjected you all these years. I… _we_ would be honoured if you would come and make your new home with us, in Erebor. No-one will try to force you to mate against your will; no-one will treat you differently just because you are an omega; you will belong only to yourself.”

Thorin reached out and brushed the tears from Bilbo’s cheeks, rough hands surprisingly gentle in the way that they skimmed across Bilbo’s soft skin to catch the moisture. Thorin held out one of his hands to the side for a moment, towards Fili, and when it came back it was holding one of Bilbo’s liberated handkerchiefs. It was a little strange to see the delicate scrap of fabric in hands that looked more used to wielding a blade than a square of embroidered linen, but somehow Bilbo could not (and did not wish to) find it in himself to protest at the coddling.

Once he had finished diligently wiping away Bilbo’s tears (and then possibly just stroking Bilbo’s face for a spell), Thorin tucked the handkerchief into the breast pocket of Bilbo’s shirt (and oh sweet Yavanna, that was _Thorin’s_ hand _right there_ brushing against Bilbo’s _chest_ and that was certainly something to be revisited at some point, preferably late at night and in a private room) and then drew something out of his own pocket, looking a little sheepish as he did so.

“We could not rescue all of your books,” Thorin started, sounding significantly less self-assured than Bilbo was used to. “So I took the liberty of quickly looking through them to determine which might be the most important to you.” He held out his offering, a small book, bound in red leather and with some old runes tooled into the front of it and inlaid with gold. It was obviously a well-read little book, the leather supple and pliant, the pages a little rumpled from having been rifled through so many times.

Bilbo felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of it.

“I read the inscription and thought that you might wish to keep this book above the others,” Thorin continued, beginning to sound almost nervous. “But of course, if I have chosen unwisely, I shall journey back right now and fetch whichever one you’d rather keep.”

That jolted Bilbo out of his stunned silence.

“No!” he almost shouted. “I mean, that is so _very_ kind of you, Thorin, but this…this book is important to me above all others. My mother was gifted it when she presented as an omega, and she passed it on to me when I presented. It is a collection of poetry from her favourite poet, and mine. It is one of my very greatest treasures, and I am eternally in your debt for it. Thank you, Thorin.”

Bilbo looked up into the alpha’s face and got lost in the sharp blue eyes that were sparkling down at him, filled with relief and fading anger, and another, softer emotion that Bilbo couldn’t quite put a name to.   

Balin interrupted, obviously noticing that neither Bilbo nor Thorin was willing to break eye contact first.

“In that case, laddie, we must hope that ye’ll give us a reading of some kind one of these evenings on the road, or after we’ve arrived in Erebor.”

“I would be delighted to,” Bilbo replied, flushing slightly. Balin bowed his head a touch and smiled in acknowledgement. After a glance at Thorin, who for some reason was still staring at Bilbo, Balin spoke again in a more business-like tone.

“But right now, I think we should be moving on again. We can do a few more miles before sundown, and then find a place to make camp for the night.”

“Of course!” Bilbo agreed. “You have tarried too long here on my behalf already, although I cannot say I am sorry that you did. Thank you, all of you, so very much.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re one of us, now!” Kili said, giving Bilbo’s shoulder a squeeze. There was a murmur of agreement, and then the others dispersed to gather their packs and begin moving again. Only Thorin was left beside Bilbo. Bilbo turned to him, and laid his hand, a little hesitantly, on Thorin’s forearm.

 _Heavens,_ those muscles.

Bilbo cleared his throat and smiled timidly, still clutching the book to his chest.

“It is perfect, and the most important thing you could have saved for me,” he said. “ _Thank you_ , Thorin.”

Thorin’s face immediately lit up with a blush, and he abruptly looked down at his feet, then up again at Bilbo. He muttered something into his beard, then hemm’d and haw’d for a bit before clearing his throat, and saying, with a slight bow,

“I am forever at your service, Master Baggins. It is my duty, but also my pleasure, to make sure that you are as happy and contented as possible with us. Please, whatever else happens, never doubt that.”

He bowed again, then strode off to direct the loading of the extra sacks onto the ponies.

But he looked back at Bilbo several times in the process, and Bilbo stared right back, a small, hopeful smile upon his lips.

***

I hazz a termbler, and it be [here](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/). I welcome any and all fangirl/boy/people friends. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst talking to the other omegas, Bilbo finds out something about Thorin that is a rather unwelcome surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say last chapter that there would be more frequent updates? EVIDENTLY MY PANTS ARE NOW ON FIRE AND I HAVE LET YOU ALL DOWN. I'm really sorry for the wait. But (hopefully good news) I have now done all my exams and finished all of my university work, so I no longer have any work-related claims on my time. This fic has therefore moved up the list of priorities!
> 
> There is a bit more angst in this chapter, but fear not, I am chronically incapable of sustaining angst, so you shan't suffer for long. 
> 
> Many thanks to Ismene_Jane, who remains the best editor that anyone could ask for. 
> 
> Enjoy!

For the next few days, Bilbo found himself perpetually flanked by his fellow omegas. They had fully claimed him as one of their own, and after seeing the way he had been treated by his own people, they were being extra-protective – so much so that not even Thorin was able to get very close; a fact which both annoyed and relieved Bilbo. He was distracted from dwelling on this for too long, however, by the fascinating Erebor omegas.

Ori, being a scribe, was obviously intensely interested in lore and history, pumping Bilbo for information about local myths and legends and stories. Bilbo soon found that if he wanted a break from talking himself hoarse for a bit, all he needed to do was mention Dwalin and he would be treated to Ori rapturously detailing every single moment of their love story. Bilbo would have been lying if he said he hadn’t felt a slight twang of wistfulness when he saw the way Dwalin looked at Ori, and the way that Ori always seemed to intuitively know where Dwalin was. Ori vehemently defended the idea that Dwalin was only good for his fighting skills (which, to be fair, were extremely impressive), waxing lyrical about the beauty of the poetry Dwalin had written for him. Bilbo had turned in time to see Thorin manfully hiding his laugh as Dwalin blushed furiously and stomped off, muttering about finding some wild, fierce animal to wrestle in order to regain his lost knot and cock. He was unable to stay away from Ori for long, though, and was soon back, hovering around his omega and pressing kisses onto his face and hands when he thought no-one was looking.

Bofur was the self-appointed master of all the travelling songs, and undertook to teach them to Bilbo. As most of them were eye-wateringly vulgar, Bilbo often politely refused, or countered with the folk songs and odes that he remembered from his youth. He even ventured to sing a few verses from songs that he had written himself, and Bofur refused to stop stomping along singing “There is an inn, a merry old inn…” for several days afterwards. Indeed, he did not stop until Bifur finally had had enough, and railed at Bofur for a good ten minutes in Khuzdul (the secret language of the mountain-folk, Bilbo had learned) which seemed to do the trick. Or at least, Bofur stopped bellowing it out at the top of his lungs and sang it under his breath instead.

Kili seemed hell-bent on teaching Bilbo how to fight, arguing that quick wits and a smooth tongue were all very well, but if Azog caught up with them, all the words in the world would not be able to save them. Only blades. Thorin, who had been hovering close at that point, saw the way that Bilbo had supressed a shiver at that thought. He’d frowned and cuffed Kili gently on the back of the head. Kili had pouted and stopped talking about Azog, but maintained that Bilbo needed to learn to defend himself. Of course, learning to wield a knife whilst walking was just asking for trouble, in Bilbo’s opinion, so the lessons were limited to the evenings. They usually took place around the campfire, where the alphas also helped give Bilbo advice and help on how to defend himself physically. During the day, Kili was an incorrigible chatterbox, and completely charming with it – as was Fili, who was rarely out of sight of his brother, and seemed also to have adopted Bilbo.

Often in his conversations with Kili, Bilbo was reminded again of just how young Kili was: barely of age, and sheltered by his fiercely protective uncle and brother. Seeing the carefree young omega run circles around the older alphas, Fili at his side, Bilbo could see more of the real Kili, rather than the angry and defensive omega that he had met in captivity. The change wrought in Kili by freedom was heartwarming to see, a fact which Bilbo had to remind himself sternly of whenever he was the victim of one of the brothers’ many pranks.  

Dori spent his time telling Bilbo of the history and customs of Erebor; of how the whole city (built into the mountain itself) first came to be, and what to expect when they got there. This included a fairly comprehensive reworking of everything Bilbo thought he knew about the place of omegas in society. Although he could hardly have failed to notice the way omegas were treated by Thorin and his company, Bilbo now found out that this was common practice in Erebor. Omegas, Dori explained, were deeply precious to the mountain-folk. They were the bearers, the bestowers of life, and as such were revered as just as important and just as strong as the alphas. Whilst there were generally accepted “roles” for omegas and alphas based on genetics (with nurturing often hardwired into their natures, omegas were far more likely to feel the need to nest and make a home or to become healers and teachers, whereas alphas often followed the call to take on more physically demanding jobs), any person who wanted to do things differently was just as acceptable to society. Dori explained that he himself was an example of this.

“Never wanted to find a mate and raise babes of my own,” he said, grinning. “So instead, I’m one of the strongest miners Erebor has seen for many a year, and I am respected as such.”

Apparently, Bilbo was nowhere near the first omega who had gone to Erebor for refuge or for a new home and a fresh start. Indeed, it was fairly normal – so much so that there was an official welcoming ceremony into the mountain, where the omegas were legally claimed as citizens of Erebor and were therefore legally protected from anyone from their past who might want to come to take them away again.

“It’s very simple,” Dori explained. “You repeat a few words, stating that you come of your own free will, and promising to obey and uphold the laws and values of Erebor for as long as you live there. Anyone is, of course, free to leave of their own volition at any time, but this ensures that no-one can take us from Erebor against our will.”

“Then, Uncle will hold out the Arkenstone to you,” Kili chimed in excitedly. “It’s the symbol of our people. Then he’ll bless you, and welcome you to Erebor as an official citizen.” The grin dimmed a little bit when he saw Bilbo frown and hold up a hand.

“Thorin will be involved in this ceremony?” he asked, a horrible fear that his attraction to the alpha had been that obvious, and that he was to be humiliated for it.

“Thorin’s always involved in them, it’s one of his duties,” Ori explained.

“Thorin has _duties_?” Bilbo said blankly, feeling increasingly as though he was missing something terribly important. Kili laughed.

“Of course he does!” he said. “As heir to the throne of Erebor--”

“Heir? _Heir!?_ ” Bilbo practically squawked. “Thorin is the _prince_ of Erebor? And _no-one_ , _not one of you_ , thought this might be pertinent information for me to have!?”

“It…uh…it never really occurred to us?” Bofur offered.

“ _It never occurred to you?_ ” Bilbo repeated, beginning to lose grip on his self-control. He buried his hands into his hair and gripped almost painfully tightly, trying to keep in the myriad thoughts and reactions belting through his head.

The surrounding alphas had obviously caught on that something was wrong; the combined scents of surprised, angry, and apprehensive omegas made for a potent mix, and coupled with the raised voices, it was clear that something was going on. Dwalin, Bifur and Fili started towards the omegas.

They were all overtaken by Thorin.

“What is wrong?” he asked, frantically (which for Thorin really was just a slightly different shade of gruff and angry. “Bilbo? Kili? Is everything alright?”

“My thanks to you, _Your Highness_ , but everything is fine,” Bilbo returned sarcastically. “I just received a rather surprising piece of information, that is all, but I’m sure that, in your great and royal wisdom, you had a good reason for making me look the ignorant fool in front of all your people.”

Thorin’s mouth dropped open and he seemed entirely at a loss for words. Kili valiantly tried to step in for his uncle.

“Bilbo, that was not his inten--” he stopped as Bilbo held up a hand, gaze still fixed upon Thorin.

“I thought that perhaps here, with you, I might escape the life of perpetual teasing and ridicule that I have endured all my life,” Bilbo said, trying not to let the lump in his throat show in his voice. “Evidently, I was wrong. I shall no longer remain here with you; I shall leave and make my own way in this world. It seems that that is the only way I can stop people from lying to me and trying to manipulate me.”

“Bilbo—”Ori started, but Bilbo interrupted.

“Do not try to change my mind, Ori,” he said. “You and the other omegas will remain my friends, but I cannot stay with a group of people who will say that they have my best interests at heart and then lie to me.”

“We didn’t lie—” Kili said, but Bilbo shook his head and turned away.

“Just…just don’t,” he said, unutterably weary of the whole thing. “Keep my things; they might fetch a good price at the next market you come to.”

With that, he sniffed once, and headed off by himself.

***

“Uncle, surely you don’t mean to just let him go?” Kili asked, eyes huge and watery.

“I cannot in all conscience force him to go where he does not wish to be,” Thorin said, his eyes fixed on the spot where Bilbo had disappeared from view.

“That is not the problem here, and you know it, laddie,” Balin said quietly, coming up from behind.

“You do not know what you are talking about, Balin,” Thorin said stiffly.

“You hurt him, and now you are afraid that if you go after him and explain, he will reject you, and you will have lost the one omega who you have ever considered as a possible mate,” Balin said. Thorin was silent for a moment.

“…perhaps you _do_ know what you are talking about, my friend,” he replied, with a hint of a smile.

“At least follow him and explain yourself, Uncle,” Fili said imploringly, doing a very good version of his brother’s puppy eyes. “You will never forgive yourself if you do not.”

Thorin hesitated for a moment longer, then made his decision.

“I will follow, and attempt to persuade Bilbo to come back to m—to us,” he said. “At the very least, I will see him safely out of the forest and on the road.”

***

Bilbo tramped through the undergrowth, his path blurred by the tears which were now flowing freely down his cheeks again. He didn’t even bother getting out his handkerchief to wipe them away; it would only serve to remind him of the gruff, strong, yet gentle, alpha he was leaving behind.

Thorin, Bilbo thought, could have had no good reason for keeping information like that a secret. Even if Bilbo had been mistaken and there had never been anything between the two of them, it still hurt that, for however short a time, Bilbo had felt a friendship and a sense of equality that he had never experienced with an alpha before. The knowledge that he could never even hope to be Thorin’s equal hurt more than any concealment ever could.

Lost in thought, Bilbo didn’t realise that he had strayed from the path until it was too late.

Completely lost, he turned around and around, trying to work out where he was.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” he muttered to himself, tears and heartbreak set aside for the moment in the more immediate problem of _goodness-gracious Bilbo, you really have done it this time_.

Then, there was a rustling noise from the left. Bilbo turned, heart lifting in the hope that it might be Thorin or one of the others, come to fetch him back. The plants parted, and…

“Well, well, well, what have we here? It seems we have found one of our runaways. Come here, little bunny, you’ve been running for long enough, now.”

Bilbo stared up in horror at the advancing alpha. He was huge, and horrible scarred, with a painful-looking, misshapen metal arm fixed to one of his elbows.

He reeked of blood, and death, and triumph. Bilbo gasped, the air leaving his lungs in the utterance of one, terrible word.

“Azog.”

***

[My tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPSIE, I FELL AND MADE A CLIFFHANGER. I shall endeavour to update and save poor Bilbo as soon as possible, so please don't hate me too much. 
> 
> Comments, kudos and feedback will make the next chapter come even more quickly.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is cornered by Azog. Will Thorin get there in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at chapter summaries. I'm sorry. 
> 
> Warning for this chapter: fairly graphic descriptions, by a character, of rape and violence. None of it actually happens, though. But tread carefully if you find that sort of thing triggery. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_Jane, who always manages to make me feel good about my writing while simultaneously making it much better. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bilbo backed away as Azog approached, grinning nastily.

“Nowhere to run to now, little bunny,” he rasped. “Gonna show you your place good an’ proper, too. Unspoiled bitches fetch a better price, but you’ve got a spirit that needs to be broken before I can sell ye on. Hell, you might still get me a pretty penny. Sweet little thing like you, and some people like their holes broken in.”

Trying to still the shaking of his limbs, Bilbo’s hand went to the knife that Bofur had given him, concealed in his belt. After a bit of fumbling, his hand closed firmly around the hilt, and he stopped backing up and instead stood his ground as Azog approached.

“That’s better, little bitch,” Azog almost cooed, voice grating on Bilbo’s already raw nerves and sending prickles up and down his back. “No need to run, and it’ll be easier if you don’t fight me. Well,” a horrible leer twisted Azog’s features even more, “you can fight me a little bit. I don’t like my bitches completely broken before I get my hands on them. In any case, if you’re not broken by the time I’m finished with you, you will be once I’ve taken you back to the camp and passed you round all my men, too.”

As Azog came closer and closer, Bilbo unsheathed his blade and waved it wildly for a few strokes, until his muscles remembered some of Fili and Kili’s lessons. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo adjusted his grip slightly and got ready to strike just as soon as Azog got close enough.

If this was to be his fate, then Bilbo would go down fighting.

***

Thorin crashed through the undergrowth, having followed Bilbo’s tracks off the path and into the forest proper. All of a sudden, his nostrils caught the overpowering scent of another alpha, one that he had hoped never to smell again. He snarled, caught up in memories of blood and grief and anger.

Then he realised that there was another, infinitely more dear, scent, too.

Old books and feather cushions and sunshine on spring flowers. Except it was laced with the tangy smell of fear, and Thorin realised that Bilbo, _his omega_ , was being attacked by Azog, the Defiler, the alpha who had killed so many of Thorin’s kin, including his grandfather.

Thorin felt the alpha bleed blood-red into his eyes, taking over his senses with an all-consuming bloodlust. Drawing his sword, he charged.

***

Azog obviously thought that Bilbo was utterly inept with the knife, for he continued to advance, only sparing a glance and a smirk for Bilbo’s weapon.

“Nice toy there, little whore, but it won’t do much good, I’m afraid,” Azog sighed. “I’m still going to knot that wet little hole of yours, and then I’m going to take that knife of yours, and I’m going to carve my name into your skin and—” he stopped speaking abruptly, lifting his head to scent the air.

Bilbo caught a whiff of fragrant leather, but too much of his concentration was on Azog to really process the new scent nearby. Instead, he watched as Azog’s focus turned elsewhere. Seizing his moment, Bilbo lunged forwards and drove his knife as hard as he could into Azog’s side.

Azog roared with pain and viciously backhanded Bilbo, sending him flying. Bilbo crashed into a bush, which cushioned his fall somewhat, and he scrambled back up and darted out of Azog’s grasp, sprinting full-tilt towards that scent, which, although he was too scared and distracted to think about who it belonged to, spoke to Bilbo of _home_ and _safe_.

That scent grew as Bilbo drew closer, until he ran smack-bang into Thorin. The alpha’s only response was to growl, the hand that wasn’t holding a sword grasping onto Bilbo’s arm almost painfully. Bilbo found himself being practically dragged along, back towards Azog, who could be heard alternately cursing, and yelling for his cronies to come and give chase.

“Thorin, stop!” Bilbo cried, desperately tugging at the alpha. “We can’t go back there, it’s suicide!”

Thorin’s only response was a growl and a slight turn of his head towards Bilbo, eyes appearing to be flashing almost… _red._ But that couldn’t be right. Alpha rages were only supposed to happen when they were defending their mate, and they were legends, anyway.

Bilbo also had far more immediate problems.

“Thorin, this is madness!” Bilbo tried again, becoming more and more distressed at the idea of Thorin wading straight into the clutches of Azog and his mercenaries. He tried one last time, picking up his feet so that he was a dead weight, and crying out in a voice that cracked,

“Alpha, _please, stop_!”

And, miracle of miracles, Thorin did.

Pushing his advantage, Bilbo continued to speak, quickly and urgently. “Thorin, if we go back there now, you will be killed and I will be taken.” Thorin growled wordlessly again, and tightened his grip on Bilbo. “We have to get back to the others, as quickly as possible, and then make our escape before Azog rallies his forces together and gives chase. Alpha, please listen to me. This is our only chance.”

Thorin still did not respond in words, but instead scooped Bilbo up like a baby, and began to run with him, back in the direction of the camp. Had he felt more in control of his own body, Bilbo would perhaps have objected to this treatment, but to tell the truth, his legs had been starting to shake and it seemed that now he was with someone that his biology recognised as safe, the adrenaline from before was wearing off, fast.

***

Thorin belted into the camp, still communicating in a series of grunts and growls. Bilbo was surprised at the looks of shock on the others’ faces, the way they all seemed to have frozen in place, gazes firmly fixed on Thorin. The other alphas all took on slightly submissive postures, hands open and palms facing upwards, necks slightly exposed. Thanks to Thorin’s beard getting in the way, Bilbo couldn’t see what expression Thorin had to make the rest of the company tread so carefully, but there was not time to think about that now.

“Azog is here,” he said. “We left him trying to gather the rest of his forces to give chase to us. We need to leave, _now.”_

The camp leapt into action. Anything that would slow them down was left behind. The ponies were loaded up with the rest of the food and some blankets, and within a few minutes, they were all exiting the clearing at a sustainable jog. Fili and Nori were at the front, leading the group out of the forest. Gloin and Bifur were at the back, covering their tracks and wafting some smoking herbs, which were apparently supposed to help mask their scent. The omegas, by unspoken agreement, were surrounded by the rest of the alphas. Thorin still had his tight grasp on Bilbo, and growled when anyone looked like they might try to take Bilbo from his arms. Dwalin looked as though he was only narrowly avoiding the same behaviour with Ori. Kili complained loudly about being treated like he was helpless, but Balin (who was the second-in-command and therefore currently in charge) had insisted that as the omegas were what Azog was after, they should be the most protected. Being surrounded by alphas also had the effect of masking their scents a bit more.

Finally, they burst out of the forest and onto the plains beyond. So far, there was no sign of Azog and his mercenaries, but Balin would not let them slow down.

“We’re too exposed here,” he said, gasping for breath. “We need to find somewhere safe to stay, and we need to make sure that we’re not being followed.”

“And if we are being followed?” Dori panted. “If those alphas catch up with us and attack?”

Thorin and Dwalin let out twin growls. Balin glanced at them both, and then replied, face unutterably grim:

“We had best pray that they do not. Keep running.”

***

[My tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So still within the realms of the cliffhanger, and for that I apologise. I'll update again soon!
> 
> Comments and feedback give me life and make me write faster.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo tries to get away from Azog whilst simultaeously dealing with a not-entirely-co-operative alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back, I am alive, and I am the WORST. I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this update. Combinations of graduating from university and holidaying in the Welsh border mountains with no internet connection has stymied me somewhat. It seems that whenever I foolishly promise to update soon, life goes "Hahhahahahaha NO" and for this I greatly apologise. Here it is, however, and thank you all so much for your patience and understanding. 
> 
> Edited by Her Gloriousness, Ismene_Jane.

The forest had receded to the horizon when the sun began to set, and Bilbo, still being carried like a babe by Thorin, began to feel that maybe, just maybe, they had escaped. Perhaps the wound he had inflicted on Azog had made it impossible to travel; perhaps it had even proved fatal.

Bilbo wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that: as an omega, he had been taught that it was in his essence to give life, not take it. Even though he might be changing his mind about all he had been brought up believing about omegas, it had been fairly deep-rooted. Regardless, Bilbo did not think that he was built for killing.

His train of thought was interrupted when Thorin let out another growl – not of warning, as he had with other members of the company, but a deep, ferocious one that spoke of blood and anger.

A moment later, Bilbo realised why.

The scent of unwashed bodies, blood (dried and fresh), and the unmistakeable smell of alphas on the hunt, rolled over him, and he shuddered. Thorin’s response was to try to clutch Bilbo closer to his chest whilst simultaneously attempting to draw his sword. Evidently this primal side of him was torn between the need to fight off the threat and the need (for some reason just as desperate) to keep Bilbo close and safe.

Bilbo had had quite enough of facing off against a bloodthirsty, rapacious alpha for one day, thank you very much. He had no intention of repeating the experience when there were now multiple alphas in pursuit and when his friends were in danger, too.

The only problem was that Bilbo had no confidence that his friends would see reason in quite the same way. Thorin, of course, was already past reason, and it was clear that if the pursuing alphas got much closer, Thorin’s need to end the threat would overrule his need to keep Bilbo close. Dwalin was not looking much better: his eyes had taken on a dull red glint, and his head kept whipping round to look at Azog and his minions. Push either Thorin or Dwalin a little farther, and they would attack. Fili and Kili would follow their uncle regardless of their own safety, and the others in the group would be forced to follow and protect their friends and their royal family.

Bilbo might be rather weak, he might be weaponless, he might be terrified and tired and he might be currently being cradled like a babe in the arms of a king in the throes of an Alpha rage; but Bilbo would be _damned_ if that meant he was powerless to save his friends.

He reached this conclusion just as Thorin made to put him down, whirling round to stand his ground and draw his sword.

“ _Absolutely not!_ ” Bilbo screeched, clinging onto Thorin’s arm. “Put that sword away _right now_ , Thorin Oakenshield! Do you hear me?”

But Thorin, while seeming to hear Bilbo’s voice, did not appear in the least bit concerned by his words, merely shoving Bilbo behind him and getting ready to charge the ever-approaching enemy.

“ _NO!_ ” Bilbo cried, fear clutching at his heart.

Then he remembered he was not the only omega in the group.

He did not have to do this alone.

“Kili! Bofur! Dori! Ori!” He shouted. “Follow me!”

And he began to run.

After a few moments, he felt pounding footsteps on either side of him. Bofur, holding onto his hat for dear life, was flanking him on one side, and Ori was matching him pace for pace on the other. A quick glance behind revealed that Dori was hot on their heels, and even Kili had obeyed, although he still had his bow in his hand and an arrow nocked to the string.

Bilbo’s plan was to use the alphas’ (particularly Thorin and Dwalin’s) instinct to keep their omegas close and protected, and couple it with the age-old instinct of The Chase, hoping that it would sway the alphas enough that they would turn and follow the omegas instead of facing Azog.

After a few tense moments, Bilbo heard the pounding of more footsteps behind him, and risked another glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, the alphas were following, led by Thorin and Dwalin. Bilbo let out a sob-like sound of relief, and turned his attention to running as fast as he could.

For a few brief minutes, Bilbo thought they were going to make it. Azog and his gang had receded back into the distance a bit; if Bilbo and the omegas could ensure that their group continued to gain ground then they might outstrip their attackers entirely. Hope clawed its way back into Bilbo’s heart.

Then, a terrible howling noise came from the east. Over the plains from that direction came another troop of alphas, scarred and smelling the same way that Azog and his men were. The main difference this time, however, was that they were mounted, on huge creatures that looked like giant, malformed wolves, teeth snapping and saliva dripping from powerful jaws.

There was no way that anyone on foot would be able to outrun the beasts. Another sob, this time of despair and guilt, tore its way out of Bilbo’s throat. There was no other way. They would have to stand and fight, and, hopelessly outnumbered, die.

The other omegas had come to the same conclusion, slowing their pace as one. Dori unhooked a club from his belt and held it in an expert grip; Bofur and Ori drew their swords and Bofur handed Bilbo a knife to replace the one he had lost; Kili loosed an arrow at the approaching pack. One of the wolves went down with a squeal, but there were too many for one archer to make much of an impact.

The rest of the company caught up. Immediately, Thorin, sword drawn, stood in front of Bilbo, shielding him. Bilbo took a deep, shuddery breath, and pressed his face for a moment into the solid, warm strength of Thorin’s back. Then he stepped out from the shelter of Thorin’s body, and instead stood next to him, able to admit to himself at this moment that if he was going to die, it was going to be next to Thorin, as an equal, not cowering behind him. 

As the first of the wolves bore down on him, Bilbo took a deep breath, and clutched his knife, ready for the first blow to descend.

But it never did.

Instead, long, silvery arrow shafts suddenly began sprouting from the wolves and their riders. From the west, the thundering of hooves got closer and closer, and the clear sound of a hunting horn rang out.

Mounted on horses, more warriors came into view. They were clad in bronze armour, riding gracefully as they cut down Azog’s men.

Bilbo watched in awe as, in the space of a few minutes, their attackers were destroyed. It did not seems to him that these new people were a threat: they smelled of cool metal and sun-warmed stone and clear spring water, and it also smelled as though the troop was made up of both alphas and omegas.

Thorin, thankfully, seemed to be as docile as could be expected around this new group who, whilst not attacking his company, were still strangers who were armed and close to Thorin’s omegas. Bilbo could feel the rumbling growls emanating from him, but he was, at least, still.

Once the last of Azog’s wolves and riders had been slain, horses circled Thorin’s company. Bilbo, being small and feeling that there was no longer a threat of attack, felt justified in sliding back and slightly behind Thorin in order to stay well out of the way of the horses’ hooves.

The leader of the mounted group nudged his horse forwards, and lifted his helm, revealing a long, noble, middle-aged face. Bilbo almost collapsed in shock when the man’s scent hit him, revealing the leader of these warriors to be an omega.

“You are not safe here,” The omega said in a deep, calm voice. “But I can offer you shelter and protection for as long as you may need it. I am Lord Elrond, of Rivendell, and if you wish to last the night, you must come with me.”

***

[My tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEEDBACK MIGHT MAKE ME GO A BIT FASTER. 
> 
> Also the fact that thanks to the holiday with no internet I have the next two chapters after this written and only needing editing, so hopefully the wait won't be too long. 
> 
> Although I hope you all appreciate that now I've said that, I've ruined all chance of a fast update. Know that if I come back after another 2 month gap with news of a zombie apocalypse and an exploding laptop, I have only myself to blame.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo, Thorin and co. enter Rivendell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELLWELLWELL WOULDJA JUST LOOK AT THAT SPEEDY NEW CHAPTER UPDATE. WHO DARED TO CALL ME A NO-GOOD PROMISE-BREAKER WHO DOESN'T UPDATE NEARLY OFTEN ENOUGH?? Oh wait, that was me. And it's true. BUT NOT THIS TIME. 
> 
> Speed and quality of update made possible by the inestimably lovely Ismene_Jane. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Fili, after a quick consultation with Balin, accepted Elrond’s protection on behalf of the company, as Thorin was still entirely preoccupied with growling at anyone who got too close to Bilbo. Which was ironic considering the way Thorin himself was currently breaking all sorts of personal-space-related conventions in the way that he seemed to be trying to absorb Bilbo into his very skin.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, Bilbo was able to ponder this a little as they were escorted to Rivendell (wherever that was) by a couple of Elrond’s horsemen while the rest tracked Azog.

Thorin’s attentions, while not entirely unwelcome, were just at the moment getting a little bit…stifling. Whenever Bilbo had (briefly and quietly) allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if Thorin were his alpha, Thorin had been gentle and lucid, protective but not suffocatingly so.

For instance, the Thorin of Bilbo’s daydreams allowed Bilbo to walk all by himself instead of once again carrying him in the _ridiculous_ manner that Bilbo was currently being jogged along in. Thorin even growled at Fili when all the young alpha had done was ask Bilbo if he was alright and comfortable enough in his rather awkward position. It was quickly becoming evident that as soon as they were able to settle down for the night, Bilbo was going to have to find some way to convince Thorin that they were safe now, and he no longer needed to protect Bilbo quite so... growling-ly.

Then, of course, would come the painful moment when Thorin surfaced and realised that he was such a strong alpha, such a good leader, that even when the omega in question was not his mate or his family, his noble instinct was to protect that omega. This would reflect well on Thorin and he could return to the mountain in triumph, mate a beautiful, high-born, and refined omega. He would inevitably live the rest of his days surrounded by adoring offspring, friends, family, and subjects.

Or, Thorin would perhaps realise that his inner alpha had played a horrible trick on him, recognising a poor, outcast nobody for his mate, and become so disgusted with himself and with Bilbo that he would abandon Bilbo and return home without him. In this scenario, Thorin would still end up mating a beautiful, high-born, and refined omega, and live the rest of his days surrounded by adoring offspring, friends, family, and subjects.

Bilbo was under no illusions. He had known, ever since he had found out the truth of Thorin’s birth and position, that there was no way an alpha such as Thorin could ever wish to mate an omega like Bilbo. Bilbo was gently, but not nobly born; he was an only child (signalling a lower-than-desirable level of fertility); a union with him could offer no monetary or political gain. He was resigned to the fact that, while he knew himself to be in a fair way towards falling in love with Thorin (his baser instincts were already there, frankly), Thorin would never, and _could_ never, return those feelings.

Which left only mortification and humiliation in store for when Thorin came to his senses.

So Bilbo felt he was justified in relaxing and making the most of being in Thorin’s arms while he still could. He tried to put aside more upsetting thoughts for the time being, and instead concentrated on his surroundings.

The group was currently being led through a maze of gullies so deep and narrow that they might as well be caves were it not for the glint of the darkening sky high above their heads.

As a result, Bilbo, although very good with maps and with navigating by the stars and the sun, found himself completely turned around and unsure of where they were, how far they had come, or even what direction they were headed in.

Before he could become too worried, however, the group emerged from the narrow path and out into a valley that was still lit by the evening sun.

The valley was wide, with a clear river flowing through it. At one end was a series of thin waterfalls, amongst which a town had been built. The flow of water from the waterfalls had been directed so that it flowed around the buildings before continuing on its course. The buildings fitted in so well with the landscape they looked almost natural, woven out of or in the image of the trees. They were high and arching, unspeakably elegant, and so beautiful that looking at it made Bilbo’s heart hurt just a little bit.

Thorin’s company had come out about halfway up one side of the valley and they were now led along a stony pathway that took them to Rivendell.  

They crossed over the (frankly very narrow, and with no sides, Bilbo really wasn’t sure about how practical that was) bridge and entered through the main archway that looked as though it had been hewn from the stone of the valley.

Thorin growled quietly again and clutched Bilbo even closer as their two mounted guides rode too close for Thorin’s comfort. Bilbo batted slightly impatiently at his arm; he was blocking the view and Bilbo wanted to take in as much as possible.

Before he had looked his fill, however, the rest of the mounted warriors returned, cantering around Thorin’s company in an extremely controlled circle. Most of them then left, for what Bilbo could only assume were the stables.

The omega who had introduced himself as Elrond stayed, however, flanked by two others: an alpha and another omega, by their scents.

“Welcome to Rivendell,” Elrond said. “You are our honoured guests here for as long as you please to remain. We shall tend to your wounds and see you well rested, for no evil is permitted to come into this valley. As you saw earlier, we take pains to see off any threat before it gets anywhere near our borders. You may therefore rest easy while you are here. No harm will come to you while you are in Rivendell.”

“I thank you, Lord Elrond,” Fili said, bowing deeply. “I accept your kind offer on behalf of my friends here, and our leader, my uncle, the Crown Prince Thorin Oakenshield of Erebor, who is currently, uh…indisposed. I hope this will not be a problem?”

Elrond cast a knowing eye over Thorin, and gave a tolerant smile.

“Well we know that alphas are not always capable of controlling their baser selves,” he said indulgently. “As long as he does not hurt anyone, he is free to roam where he will until he returns to his higher functions.” Then his eyes hardened.  “I warn you, though. All of the omegas here are trained to protect themselves, and are some of the best warriors in all the land. If the prince—or any of you who are alphas—try to take advantage of an omega while you are here, retribution will be swift and sure.” Elrond gave a smile that was hard as steel. “As I said, there is no tolerance for evil here. This is a place of sanctuary, and this is one rule that must be obeyed.” 

Fili bowed deeply once more.

“You need not fear on that count, my lord,” he said. “We are all alphas who are able to control ourselves. My uncle has only…reverted, because he only recently met his mate, Master Bilbo Baggins there, and his primal alpha sense was triggered when he sensed Master Baggins was in danger. If there is someplace that the two of them can go and be private, I am sure that my uncle will come back to himself as soon as he realises that his mate is safe.”

Bilbo, who had been happily surveying his surroundings, was jerked back into reality by this little speech. He only had the time to screech,

“His _mate?_ ” before Elrond was speaking again.

“Perfectly understandable,” he said. “They shall be shown to a room immediately where they can be comfortable and private together. Well do I remember the first rush of a new mating! Lindir will show you to the quarters we set aside for heats and other occasions such as these.”

With those words, Bilbo and Thorin were swept away from the rest of the group by the other mounted omega, and taken to a house rather to the side and halfway up the waterfall. This, Bilbo was informed, was so that they could be as loud as they liked without worrying that anyone could hear. 

After shoo-ing a still-growling Thorin who was still clutching a spluttering Bilbo like a teddy-bear, Lindir walked out and shut the door behind him.

After struggling out of Thorin’s grasp, Bilbo looked around the room.

In one corner, a table was laden with bread, cheeses, fruit, and flagons of what smelled like a sweet wine. A pitcher and a washbowl were situated in the opposite corner.

Almost the entire rest of the room was taken up with a huge bed, piled high with pillows and hung round with curtains.

It was the kind of place that was perfect for an omega and an alpha to spend a heat or a rut, nesting and making love.

It was also the kind of room that was often traditionally used for a pair to consummate their compatibility as mates…

Oh. 

_Right._

_***_

[My tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, get used to this frenzy of two chapters. Never fear, at some point I shall return to disappointing you with the long waits in between chapters, but rest assured that I will have tried very hard not to. 
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments I've been getting! There's been much support for omega!Elrond, for which I thank you greatly - he will feature a bit more within the next few chapters. 
> 
> As always, comments and feedback give me a massive case of motivation, as well as the happy squigglies in my heart.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin have some things to sort out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE A CONFESSION TO MAKE
> 
> There is little to no smut in this chapter. I am a horrible person. 
> 
> I hope you can forgive me and enjoy the chapter anyway. 
> 
> Massively improved by the exceptionally wonderful Ismene_Jane.

Immediately, Bilbo ran out to catch up with Lindir, who turned upon hearing his name called and fixed Bilbo with an inquiring look.

“I’m terribly afraid you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, here,” Bilbo panted. “You see, this…Thorin and I, we’re not actually…we’re not mates, and nothing has been said about us _being_ mates, and really this is all a big mistake…”

He trailed off as Lindir raised an eyebrow.

“The descending of an alpha into their most primal self is never a mistake,” he said. “It can only be triggered by a close family member—a pup or a sibling usually—or more commonly, by a mate. And by the way he,” Lindir nodded back to where Bilbo had come from, and Bilbo turned to see Thorin standing at the door of the room they had been given. Thorin was staring at Bilbo intently, presumably not coming any closer because Bilbo was talking to another omega and no longer smelled frightened, “is looking at you, there can be little doubt indeed that you _are_ his mate.”

“But we’re _not_ mates!” Bilbo cried, narrowly avoiding stamping his foot. Why did no-one understand? “Thorin is a prince, and I am a…a _nothing_ , and I am _certainly_ not his mate, so could you _please_ save us both some embarrassment and make other arrangements for Thorin to recover himself?”

Lindir looked rather shocked, but he composed himself again rapidly.

“Would that I could,” he answered gently. “But…has no-one ever taught you these things?”

“Never,” Bilbo replied shortly.

“Well…Master Bilbo, I am afraid that the most common and quickest remedy to what ails the prince is…well, is mating. It allows the alpha to lay a physical and a sensual claim on the omega, to ensure both that they are safe and together.”

Bilbo tried hard not to let his eyes fill with tears. Oh, how he _wanted_ that with Thorin, to be held and claimed and comforted and protected and _loved_.

And how impossible it was that that could ever be.

“I am afraid that is out of the question,” he said, rather stiffly. “There is presumably another, more platonic way of bringing him out of it, if sometimes it is triggered by a family member.”

Lindir bowed his head in affirmation.

“Indeed,” he replied, “although it will take much longer, and it must still be you to do it. Even if you refuse to believe that you are mates, you must at least accept that it was because of you that Thorin entered into…his current state.”

“Very well,” Bilbo said. “Tell me what I must do.”

***

Bilbo closed the door behind him and turned around to face Thorin, who was standing still, chest heaving with heavy breaths, staring straight at Bilbo.

Such intense scrutiny from one Bilbo knew was currently incapable of higher forms of thought was most disconcerting, and Bilbo found that he could not keep the alpha’s gaze for long. Perhaps it was because of his upbringing (he was taught never to stare an alpha in the eye for too long); perhaps it was just because the heat that he saw in Thorin’s eyes, the naked _hunger_ there. Whatever it was, it overwhelmed Bilbo somewhat.

 “Right, then,” Bilbo said, trying to sound practical and in control of the situation. “We’re clearly safe now, Mister Oakenshield, so you can just…come back now, alright, and we’ll say no more about it. I don’t blame you for what has happened, and you needn’t worry that I shall lay some sort of, of _claim_ to you, goodness me no, that would be the height of ingratitude on my part…”

Bilbo was suddenly and rudely interrupted by Thorin’s mouth descending hungrily upon his neck, biting and sucking a mark into the tender skin there. For a blissful moment, Bilbo sank into the embrace, allowing a little moan of happiness, of _belonging,_ to escape him.

Then he rather hazily realised what he was doing, and tore himself away, even though it caused him almost physical pain to do so, and said,

“Thorin, no! You…we musn’t!”

This seemed to incense Thorin further, for the alpha gave a growl that sounded almost like a moan, and, bringing Bilbo securely into his arms, latched his mouth onto the other side of Bilbo’s neck, just above his collarbone, scenting and marking the skin there.

It was at this point that Bilbo fully regained his senses. He pushed at Thorin with all his might, and the alpha stepped back with a grunt that sounded…almost hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo said, torn between gloriously breathless and feeling rather ashamed of himself. “I didn’t mean to…Look, you don’t really want _me_ , so I feel that it really is time for you to snap out of this…this _ridiculousness_ , now.”

Ah, so that was where Kili got his puppy eyes from. Thorin slumped down onto his knees, still staring at Bilbo with huge brown eyes (surely it wasn’t _usual_ for an alpha to have such sweet eyes?) and let out a noise that sounded almost like a whimper.

“And it’s absolutely no use taking that tone with me, your Highness, even if you are a prince,” Bilbo said sniffily, hoping that it would conceal his rather wavering resolve.

All Thorin did, unfortunately, was slump even further down, and give such a lonely-sounding moan that Bilbo felt his heart break a little in sympathy. He realised that Lindir had been right in his advice; trying to bring Thorin back to himself just by using logic was obviously not going to work. All it did was make Thorin think that he was being rejected, that he was not good enough. That was so far from the truth that it was almost laughable.

Bilbo was going to have to do what Lindir instructed.

Wasting no more time (and not allowing himself the opportunity to lose his nerve), Bilbo plopped himself down into Thorin’s lap and wrapped his arms firmly around Thorin’s chest, trying hard not to whimper as he felt the hard muscle underneath Thorin’s shirt.

By Thorin’s surprised grunt, he had not been expecting this. 

“If you refuse to listen to reason, apparently the only other way we can solve this…problem of yours, is to be physically close for an extended period of time. There’s nothing for it, Thorin, we’re going to have to cuddle you out of this.”

Although Bilbo couldn’t be certain how much of his solution had been understood, Thorin did become a little more pliant after that. He allowed himself to be manhandled over to the nest of cushions and blankets and was very eager to help when Bilbo attempted to remove their jackets and boots in order to be more comfortable. As soon as Bilbo had finished these preparations, he found himself pulled down into Thorin’s arms.

Nestled in the vee of Thorin’s legs, engulfed in his arms, able to feel the heat of his skin beneath his shirt and the soft chest hair that sprung out at the top, Bilbo felt safer and happier than he could ever remember feeling before.

Slowly, the day and its events caught up with him and he drifted into sleep, lulled by warmth, comfort, and love, and soothed by the soft, contented snores coming from Thorin.

***

[My tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWEAR BY ALL THE GODS there will be smut in this fic. Reams of it, eventually. Pages and pages. Just not quite yet!
> 
> I adore you all, especially when you leave me comments and feedback <3


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo wakes up. And then Thorin wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, this one's going to be a tad angsty. Or at least, as angsty as I, a consummate fluff-generator, can manage. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_Jane, who finds time and brain for this fic despite her crazy life. Sainted woman. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bilbo woke up slowly. He was nestled in some sort of warm pile of pillows, and his head was resting on something that felt a bit more solid than the rest of the bed. It was also…rising and falling with deep and even breaths.

_Thorin._

Bilbo experienced a moment of doubt, wondering if he should just wake the alpha up so that they could get it all over with, so Thorin could just tell him it had been a mistake and they were not really mates. But his weak side was stronger in this instance and instead he snuggled back down into Thorin’s arms and let himself drift back to sleep, lulled by the illusion that Thorin really was his.

***

When Bilbo woke again, it was to the discovery that the previously safe and contented scent surrounding him had abruptly changed to _confused_ to _shocked_ to _embarrassed_. Evidently, Thorin was awake. However, he hadn’t yet moved and was therefore still cradling Bilbo protectively and possessively to his chest. There was a tension running through his body, however,  and Bilbo knew that putting off the inevitable moment even longer would only make things worse. So he shifted and groaned slightly, lifting his head (reluctantly) from Thorin’s chest and yawning.

“Good morning, Your Highness, I trust you are feeling more yourself?”

Thorin averted his eyes.

“Bilbo,” he began shakily, “I cannot begin to apologise enough for my behaviour towards you. For not making sure that you knew my birth and status, and then for my actions yesterday. They were wholly inappropriate and not at all what I would have wanted between us. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course,” Bilbo said brightly, hoping that his voice didn’t sound as brittle as he felt. “ _I_ am the one who should be apologising. I overreacted and my recklessness and pride put you all in danger. I am truly sorry, Thorin.”

“Perhaps we were both a little at fault in that instance,” Thorin said with a twisted smile. “But how you could ever forgive me for the events that occurred after you ran away…”

“Say no more about it,” Bilbo said, determinedly keeping his voice steady. “I knew you did not mean whatever attention you fixed on me. Whatever caused your inner, primal alpha to be unleashed, I can only say that you behaved remarkably well considering the circumstances, and I am glad to have been able to atone in some small way for all the trouble I have caused you.” Thorin frowned at Bilbo, confused, for a moment before he replied.

“What do you mean, whatever caused my primal alpha to be released?”  He asked. Bilbo closed his eyes briefly. Was Thorin really going to make him say it?

“Well perhaps it was seeing Azog and connecting him with a threat to Kili, to your family. Or perhaps Azog is just so vile that he triggered it all by himself. Whatever it was, you said yourself that it couldn’t…that it’s not what everyone seems to think, so you needn’t think that I’m going to lay some sort of claim on you. You don’t want that - or me - so rest assured that I will remain discreet.”

“Bilbo, I don’t—” Thorin began, but the lump in Bilbo’s throat was growing rapidly and he needed to get away before he made even more of a fool of himself. He ran from the room, and ignored the pain in his heart that he almost thought he could hear reflected in Thorin’s voice as the alpha called his name. He couldn’t face it, though; couldn’t face the kindness and pity that was sure to be in Thorin’s expression as he laid out every painful reason why Bilbo would never be good enough for him. So Bilbo ran.

Blinded by tears, he kept running until he collided with a solid mass. For a moment he thought that Thorin had somehow followed and overtaken him, then he realised that although the scent was similar to Thorin’s, it was not the same. The smell of smoke and leather were present but less powerful, and the alpha smelled… _sunnier_ , somehow, than Thorin. Thorin’s scent was filled with tempestuous skies and grand storms, so huge and important that they made everyone who experienced them feel small. This scent was sunshine and courage and youth.

It was Fili, of course.

“Why, Bilbo!” He said in surprise. “Whatever is the matter?”

“Nothing, nothing is the matter!” Bilbo sobbed. Coupling the hysterical sobbing with the fact that there were tears running freely down his face, he was not exactly surprised when Fili didn’t just let the matter drop.

“Well something is certainly wrong,” Fili said pragmatically, as he guided Bilbo to a bench carved into a tree and sat down next to him. Rivendell, Bilbo was finding, was full of useful places like this. “Can you not tell me what has upset you so? Or shall I go and fetch my uncle? I would have thought that he—”

“Yes,” Bilbo snarled, so ferociously that Fili scooted away from him a few inches. “You have been doing a lot of _thinking_ about your uncle and me, haven’t you?”

“I…I don’t understand,” Fili stammered. “As your mate, he—”

 “But he’s _not_ my mate!” Bilbo wailed. “He doesn’t want me, and you, you just _assumed_ that we were meant for each other, and, and _threw_ me in there with him last night to deal with him on my own, and then he woke up this morning and he _rejected_ me, so no, thank you Master Fili, or Your Highness, or whatever I should call you, you have done _quite_ enough already!”

Fili turned white so quickly that, had Bilbo not been wholly caught up in his own misery, he would have been worried for the young alpha’s health.

“You…you mean, you did not _want_ to be with Thorin last night?” Fili hesitated, looking horrified. “We all thought…I mean, your attraction to each other was so clear, and then you triggered his primal alpha self, I have never seen two others who were so wholly drawn to each other before…”

“You still have not,” Bilbo said, blowing his nose. “Whatever you thought you saw in your uncle, you were wrong. He does not want me, Fili, and you…you didn’t even _ask_ me before you told everyone that Thorin and I are mates, and I’m not good enough for him, everyone else can see it, and now he’s embarrassed that I had to help him, and last night was _the best night of my life_ , and…and…I wish none of this had ever happened!” He finished and started to sob again.

Looking back on his slightly jumbled-up speech, Bilbo could understand why it took Fili a moment to respond. He was probably trying to work out exactly what it was that Bilbo had been attempting to say.

Face still pale under the healthy tan of his skin, Fili knelt down in front of Bilbo and gently drew Bilbo’s hands down from where they were covering his face.

“Bilbo, I am so sorry,” he said in a voice that was gentle and steady, but with such a serious expression on his face that Bilbo knew Fili had been severely shaken. “I am guilty of having jumped to conclusions and failed to consider how you might feel about it. I cannot apologise enough. “He looked to be almost on the verge of tears himself. “Yet I cannot believe that my uncle would reject you. I have seen the way he looks at you, Bilbo. I know him, and I know that you are the one he has given his heart to.” Fili’s face brightened suddenly. “It must all be a misunderstanding!” He said. “I can talk to him, if you like, and sort out—”

“No!” cried Bilbo. “I do forgive you, Fili, but you have done quite enough speaking on my behalf for the moment. In any case, if I see Thorin right now I shall most likely dissolve into a blubbering mess again, and I just…I just can’t face it.” Fili opened his mouth, and seemed about to say something else, but then they heard Thorin’s voice, calling for Bilbo, from a distance but getting closer.

“Fili!” Bilbo whispered desperately, feeling hysteria rising up in his chest. “I can’t face him yet! I can’t!”

“Do not worry, Bilbo,” Fili replied, voice steady and comforting. “Carry on through the bushes, and you will come to an area that only omegas are allowed into. I think Elrond holds a sort of court there – in any case, alphas are not permitted to enter unless expressly summoned. Go to Elrond and explain the situation. He will give you sanctuary from all of us alphas until you are ready to talk. “

“But Thorin…” Bilbo said, torn between needing to get away and _think_ and the fact that Thorin was _coming this way_ and maybe, just _maybe…_

 _“Bilbo!”_ Fili hissed. “If you don’t want to see him, you need to go _now_! I won’t let him find you until you’re ready. Go. “

Bilbo nodded, gulped, and turned to run into the bushes, disappearing into the leaves, heading towards Elrond and leaving his heart behind him in the clearing.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWEAR, SMUT APPROACHES. Slowly, but it does approach. The plan after this is a very short chapter from Fili's POV, which is already written, and then The Big Talk, which shall include Explanations, Revelations, and Reconciliations. Because I thought about eke-ing it out for longer, but it turns out that if I slow-burn this for any longer I might well explode and that would be messy and disappointing. 
> 
> Comments and feedback make my day!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Fili's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A somewhat teeny-tiny chapter for you, my doves, from the point of view of Fili, because I adore him and have become truly crazed with power and decided to give him some POV love. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_Jane. Even though my ficcy evil never sleeps and I keep sending her things to edit, her virtue is ever-vigilant and she just keeps makin' 'em better and battin' 'em back. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Fili turned from where Bilbo had disappeared into the bushes, and faced his uncle, who was just coming into view.

“Fili! Have you seen Bilbo coming through here?” Thorin asked, looked rather wild-eyed and frustrated, but without that red which had clouded his eyes the day before.

Fili gathered his courage before replying. He knew his uncle would never purposefully hurt him, but he had also seen how Thorin had been the day before when he thought that someone was trying to keep him from his omega. Fili took a deep breath, and drew himself up, speaking with as much authority as he could muster.

“Uncle, you need to stop looking for him, for the time being,” he said, standing his ground between his uncle and the place where Bilbo had disappeared into the trees. “He doesn’t want to talk to you at the moment.”

Thorin’s brows drew together. “You have been speaking to him? Where has he gone? What did he say to you?” he asked, in a voice that sounded a little too close to a growl for Fili’s liking. However, Thorin was not the only prince there, and Fili had Bilbo’s tearstained and pleading face fresh in his memory to keep him strong.

“He bumped into me as he was running. Away from you, I might add,” Fili said boldly. Thorin’s face fell and he looked more guilty than angry now. Fili continued to speak. “I sent him to Elrond and the other omegas. I don’t know exactly what’s happened between the two of you, but…Uncle Thorin, Bilbo thinks that you have rejected him, and he is heartbroken over it!”

“We…” Thorin started, and Fili was surprised and concerned to see his usually confident and in-control uncle looking so vulnerable and confused. “I do not fully remember what happened last night when I was…not myself, but I do know that we did not mate. We just…we just slept, I think, and yet I woke up feeling so whole, so complete, so happy…” Thorin’s face lit up with the remembrance of that morning for a moment, but then his brows lowered and his tone darkened. “But I thought perhaps that Bilbo was not comfortable with the position he was forced into, and so I tried to start to tell him that as our first night together, it was not what I would have wanted; him feeling cornered and coerced, and me acting like some kind of animal.”

The self-hatred in Thorin’s voice in the last part of his speech made Fili’s heart clench, His suspicion was confirmed when Thorin added, “and then Bilbo suddenly became very upset, said something about not laying a claim to me, and stormed out with no explanation.” Thorin stopped and looked at Fili plaintively. “All I wanted to do was tell him how I had wanted our mating to be,” he said.

Fili felt sorry for his uncle, but thought he began to glimpse what might have gone wrong. He also firmly believed that, understandable or not, Thorin had acted the fool, and deserved to have to chase Bilbo a bit.

“Uncle Thorin,” he began carefully, “is it at all possible that instead of telling Bilbo that you had envisioned your first night together as going differently, what you actually told him was that it had been a mistake and not what you would have wanted?”

Thorin froze.

Fili wanted to say a whole lot of things to his uncle: that perhaps Thorin should have thought about what _Bilbo_ would have wanted for his first night with his mate; that _of course_ an omega who had been taught from a young age that he was not good enough (who _less than twenty-four hours ago_ had _run away_ because he thought he was not good enough for Thorin) would believe the worst of any alpha’s intentions, particularly one as highborn as Thorin. But he stopped himself. Bilbo had lived his whole life with alphas speaking for him, and Fili wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

He limited himself to saying, gently, “And is it possible, therefore, that given his past, he might have been inclined to take it how it sounded and not how you meant it?”

Thorin paused for a moment, thinking about it, then eloquently and majestically said one word:

“ _Fuck.”_

_***_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will sort our boys out, never fear. Don't expect me to update again with the speed of this one, but I shall do my best to get it to you as soon as I can! Rest assured that as soon as I have written it, you shall read it. 
> 
> Were I a Greek God, comments and feedback would be my sacrifices and offerings of choice.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo enters the Omega Sanctuary, and Elrond dispenses wisdom like it's his job (which it kind of is)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, have I mentioned lately that I am THE WORST? Because I am and I can't apologise enough. 
> 
> In an effort not to lose your love entirely, I'm doing a double-whammy of chapters, so with any luck the second one will be posted before anyone's finished the first. At least, that's my dastardly plan. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_Jane, who genuinely rescues this tale from the pile of enthusiastic drivel that I send to her. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Had he been concentrating on such things, Bilbo would have known that he had reached his destination when he crossed a bridge over a stream, rounded a rock outcrop and came to a large marble gate, behind which was a huge garden that hummed with life. It was sheltered on two-and-a-half sides by the cliff and the waterfall, but it still caught the sun as it passed over above. Some of the valley-folk were tending to the beds in the garden, their scents sun-kissed, gentle, and non-threatening. As Fili had promised, there was no trace of any alphas. Bilbo wiped his running nose and eyes on his sleeve (which, had he thought about it, would have shown just how shaken he was, to the extent of not using a handkerchief) and made to open the gate.

Before he could go through, however, he was stopped by a growl and a large, furry body blocking the way. Between the tears still clinging to his eyelashes and the fact that whatever was stopping him was large and close-up, Bilbo was unable to tell what it was exactly that was in front of him. Whatever it was, it pressed a cold, wet nose up into Bilbo’s neck and snuffled, before giving a satisfied-sounding huff and backing away.

“I…Does this mean I can go in now?” Bilbo said uncertainly.  He rather tentatively tried to edge round the beast (that actually looked rather like a very large bear) and froze when it turned its head to look at him.

“Do not be afraid of Beorn; he poses no threat to omegas,” a lilting voice said from behind the creature. “Too often of old have alphas tried to pose as omegas to gain entry to the sanctuary. Beorn, being blessed with a sharper sense of smell than any of our race, stands guard and makes sure that only true omegas may enter.”

A tall, blonde omega emerged from behind Beorn. A sword was sheathed along his back and he held a long silver spear in one hand. By the ease and grace with which he moved despite his burdens, it was clear that this guard’s weapons were like an extension of his own body. He spoke again, and his voice was clear and smooth.

“Welcome to The Sanctuary, Master Baggins. I believe Lord Elrond is expecting to see you, and I shall escort you there, if you wish. My name is Glorfindel, and I am the warrior who guards this place.”

“Oh, right,” Bilbo said, intelligently. He was rather overawed by this glorious personage, and was increasingly aware of his own dishevelled and tearstained appearance. Yavanna, no wonder Thorin didn’t want him. Not when there were omegas in the world who were not only the pinnacle of physical perfection, but were also warriors and not forever running off and having to be saved.

Bilbo refused to let himself wallow, however, not when Glorfindel was waiting.

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Glorfindel,” he said, mustering a bow and trying to smooth his unruly curls. “I would count it as a great kindness in you if you would take me to Lord Elrond.”

Glorfindel inclined his head.

“Then follow me, Master Baggins.”

***

After walking for a while through flower and water gardens, vegetable patches, orchards and shaded walkways, Glorfindel led Bilbo round a crop of trees and the hall in which Elrond presumably presided came into view. It was elegant and arching, with delicate decorations carved into the sides; yet it was hewn out of the rock of the cliff face, and had an underlying aura of strength and power that Bilbo found very comforting. 

The doors were made of a silvery sort of wood, and looked thick and imposing. Glorfindel knocked three times, and a small window, set high up, slid open, and another omega looked at them both for a moment before the window slid shut and the doors swung out.

Stepping through the slender archways that framed the entrance, Bilbo took a deep breath. His senses were filled with flowers and growing things and peace. He continued following Glorfindel, who led him into a large hall filled with omegas doing a variety of things: some had babies and small children with them; some were sewing or whittling or weaving; some were sparring in and out of the pillars. At the other end of the room, sitting on a white chair, was Elrond, who immediately saw when Bilbo entered and gestured him to come over.

“My Lord Elrond,” Bilbo said nervously when he got to the chair. “Thank you for granting me sanctuary here.”

Elrond smiled kindly at Bilbo.

“You are an omega, and you wished for some time away from alphas,” he said. “It is your right to claim that. I am only glad that I have been able to provide such a place. And I am sorry for the…misunderstanding last night. I know it was not what you wished, and I apologise for that. Rest assured that we do have guards posted nearby who are always under orders to react to any sound of distress that they hear, so no omega would ever be forced to mate with their alpha if they did not want to. But we were still wrong to assume, in your case.”

“Please, say no more about it,” Bilbo said not caring that his tone was rather abrupt. “I was safe with Thorin, and I am tired of talking about it.”

“As you wish, Master Baggins,” Elrond said, inclining his head.

“How did this place come to be?” Bilbo asked. “I’ve never seen or heard of anywhere like this before. You must truly have seen a high number of omegas who were running away in order to decide that you needed to make a sanctuary for them.”

Elrond frowned; not angry, but concerned.

“Bilbo,” he said, “this place wasn’t specifically intended as a sanctuary in the way that you mean. It’s true, some of the omegas here are here because this is the only place that they feel safe from the threat of alphas, but that is not the only reason why people come here. Some just come here occasionally for a few hours to sit and think or talk. Some want their omega children to see that there is not just one mould for an adult omega to fit into. Some,” and here Elrond’s eyes took on a deep, private sadness, “some are widowed, and this is a place with no associations to times with their alphas. You have seen some of our gardens; many of the omegas here contribute to the growing, caring for, and harvesting of food so that no-one goes hungry in this valley. Others train with weapons so that they can go back out into the world able to defend themselves, or so they can become guards and protectors here, like Glorfindel. Here we understand that the word `sanctuary’ does not have only one definition, just as the word `omega’ does not mean any one type of person.”

Elrond smiled kindly down at Bilbo.

“And of course, there are some omegas like you,” he said. “Passing through, and soon to be gone to other places, but who need somewhere to come and think and reflect before they allow their hearts to be open to an alpha.”

Bilbo snorted (at least he meant to, but the sound that came out was too forlorn to be a proper snort).

“Not quite, Lord Elrond,” he replied. “ _My_ heart is not the problem here.”

“Are you sure about that?” Elrond asked. “Your heart has been bruised and treated poorly for many years. It is no surprise that you are…disinclined to trust an alpha with something so precious, yet that is what you clearly wish to do with your Thorin.”

“That’s what I’m _saying_ , he’s not _my_ Thorin, he doesn’t want me at all,” Bilbo said, choking on a sob. “This morning, he…he rejected me.”

Elrond’s expression deepened in confusion.

“That makes no sense,” he said. “Are you sure that that is what happened? Did Thorin explicitly tell you that he did not want you?”

“He said last night was a mistake, that it was not what he wanted,” Bilbo said miserably. “So I…I was wondering if I could stay here? I can’t face Thorin now, and here I don’t have to.”

“Bilbo,” Elrond said gently, “this is not a hiding-place for you to escape from your problems. Of course, we never turn away an omega who wants to stay, so if, after due consideration and _communication_ , you decide that this is what you want, of course you may stay. But, if you will accept my council, I would strongly advise you to talk to Thorin. Your heart is not used to trusting alphas, and even though you may not consciously decide to, you are treating him like any other alpha who is not worthy of your trust.”

“I…” Bilbo started, but Elrond wasn’t finished.

“How many times have you run from him?” Elrond asked. “When have you ever given him reason to believe that the way he was last night would be the way to winning you? He has not communicated with you as well as he might have, but you have pushed him away repeatedly, from what your other omega friends tell me. And that is perfectly understandable and normal for someone in your position. But now you must decide, Bilbo. If you do not want him, if you do not believe or accept that you are Thorin’s true mate or that he will not treat you well, then I shall send him and his band away today, and you never have to see them again. But I do not feel that you truly think this. In which case, you owe it to both Thorin and yourself to _talk_ and determine whether you want a future together. Do not throw this away lightly, Bilbo. I sense that together, you two could achieve great triumphs, and great happiness.”

“But what if he turns out to be like all the others?” Bilbo whispered. “What if I’m not good enough for him?”

Elrond placed his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Believe me, Bilbo, I have seen the way that alpha looks at you. And I have seen your strength and resolve. Once you two get past your seeming inability to talk properly to each other, I do not foresee an unhappy mating. But if by some foul chance I am wrong, then rest assured, Bilbo, you are no longer alone. You need only hint to us here that something is amiss, and we shall make sure that you never have to see Thorin again. Thorin’s people are also more attached to you than you seem to think. I know for a fact that if he thought his uncle was treating you poorly, young Kili would have no qualms about helping you get away.” Elrond smiled. “You are not as friendless as you think, Bilbo Baggins.”

As Bilbo tried to process everything that Elrond had said, Glorfindel came back into the hall.

“My Lord Elrond, Master Baggins,” he said. “There is an alpha at the gates asking for an audience with Master Baggins. I have left him with Beorn for the moment. Shall I send him away, or will you come out and have words with him?”

Bilbo looked up at Elrond, who squeezed his shoulder and said, quietly, “It is your decision, Bilbo. Whatever you choose, you will have my support.”

Bilbo nodded, and squared his shoulders.

“I’ll come and speak to him.”

***

[My tumblr](heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Off I tootle, to upload the next chapter (spoiler: IT'S A KISSING CHAPTER SO PLEASE DON'T HATE ME) and hopefully by the time any of you read this note, it will be redundant and the next chapter will be up. But on the off-chance it's not, bear with me. I've probably just got distracted trying to write a witty summary (spoiler: I shall fail). 
> 
> Comments and kudos sustain me.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an amazing twist of fate, Thorin and Bilbo ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE (and I made a rhyme so everyone's happy).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it be! I really hope it's worth the wait that I've been inflicting on you. 
> 
> Made so much better by Ismene_Jane, you don't even know. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bilbo followed Glorfindel back through the gardens, fighting a silent war with himself. Could he really have misunderstood Thorin? And was he really willing to risk his heart on the off-chance that Thorin Oakenshield, Crown Prince of Erebor, and perfect alpha, would really want mousey, foolish little Bilbo Baggins from Hobbiton?

But. On the other hand.

Could Bilbo really live with himself if he threw away the best chance at happiness that he would ever get, through fear? And, more importantly, was his own fear enough of a reason to risk causing Thorin the same kind of heartache at being rejected that Bilbo himself had gone through?

The idea of causing Thorin pain even more than he had already (albeit unwittingly) done actually stopped Bilbo in his tracks for a moment, and a small whimper punched its way out of him.

Glorfindel turned, his face pinched in concern.

“Master Baggins, are you well?” He enquired.

“Y-yes, thank you,” Bilbo stammered. “Quite well; just being silly.”

“You need not talk to this alpha if you do not wish to,” said Glorfindel. “I will turn him away if you ask it of me, and I can assure you that even if he resists, I am more than a match for any alpha.”

“I’m sure you are, and thank you for the offer,” Bilbo said gratefully. “But I do wish to speak with Thorin.”

Glorfindel inclined his head. “As you wish.”

Bilbo and Glorfindel continued through the gardens, Bilbo now firm in his resolve to be brave, and risk his own heart in order to protect Thorin’s (and hopefully, by extension, his own). They rounded a corner and Bilbo saw that they were back at the sanctuary’s entrance.

His eyes and nose (and other parts of him, too) were immediately drawn to where Thorin was standing, behind the closed gate. He looked and smelled tense and worried, and a little aggressive. The reason for this was obvious, as Beorn was standing right in front of Thorin on the other side of the gate, blocking Thorin’s path and his view.

Beorn was growling lowly, more in a warning than a challenge, but it was obviously doing nothing to calm Thorin down. His scent was becoming tenser and more aggressive by the moment.

Fearing that Thorin’s patience would not last much longer, and that he would snap and try to get past Beorn, Bilbo wasted no time in stepping forwards. As soon as his scent hit Thorin’s nostrils, Thorin’s head snapped up and he stared hungrily at Bilbo.

“Bilbo,” he said hoarsely. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry for what I said this morning, for how I behaved. If you can find it in your heart to let me explain…”

“I can,” Bilbo replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “I find that there is a lot of room in my heart for you, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin muscled in as close to the bars of the gate as he could, hands holding tightly onto it as hope leapt into his eyes.

“Bilbo,” he croaked. “Do you mean…”

Bilbo walked up and laid a hand on Thorin’s fist. Thorin’s fingers automatically unclenched and twined themselves with Bilbo’s, warm and strong. Even that slight touch made something slide home in Bilbo. He was calm and secure, and in charge of his own destiny.

“I never allowed you to explain,” Bilbo said, looking down at their entwined hands. “In the forest, and then again this morning, I…I assumed the worst of you and ran away. But,” he looked up shyly at Thorin, and gave him a small smile. “I am here now, and I won’t run away again.”

Thorin squeezed Bilbo’s hand, clinging as though he wanted them to be fastened like that forever.

“I was a fool in what I said to you this morning,” Thorin said, in a rushed way that was very unlike him. “I should have known that my obscure meaning - born of a wish to protect my own heart and woo you properly - would immediately make you think the worst. I didn’t mean that I don’t always want you by my side, in my heart and in my bed, my mate and my love, for the rest of time. All I meant was that none of my elaborate plans for winning you as my mate involved becoming incapable of higher thought, acting like the worst kind of possessive, selfish alpha knothead, and forcing you to spend the night in my bed in order to cure me of it. I wanted to show you that I am worthy of your trust, maybe even of your love. I wanted you to get to know me, and for you to come to me willingly; not forced because of the way I behaved towards you.”

He took a deep breath and continued, this time with a quiet intensity that shot straight through Bilbo’s heart.  

“Bilbo, when I said this morning that it was not what I had wanted, it was because my actions were not worthy of you. Please believe me that if there was the slightest chance that you might ever want me as your mate, I would jump at it. I would wait and work for as long as it took for you to give me the opportunity to make you feel half as happy as you make me feel just by being close by.”

Seeing as Bilbo was getting pleasantly wobbly-kneed just from holding Thorin’s hand and listening to his voice, he was fairly certain that Thorin would not have to work too hard to make Bilbo happy. But the words coming from Thorin’s mouth were soothing and closing over the old scars in Bilbo’s soul, so he let the alpha keep talking.

“When you wrap yourself around me,” Thorin said, the passion in his voice making it tremble, “I want it to be because you don’t feel you can go another minute without being close to me, not because you are afraid of who I might be about to hurt.” He said, his eyes boring into Bilbo’s and doing nothing to help the weak-at-the-knees sensation. “When you call me `alpha’, I want it to be because I _am_ your alpha, not because I am acting like the worst alpha stereotypes. When you allow me to hold you, I want it to be because you trust me to keep you safe and loved, not because I am acting like a wild animal that you have to tame. When you come to my bed,” and here Thorin pushed into the gate even closer, his movement mirrored by Bilbo so they were pressed as close together as it was possible to be with the gate still between them. Thorin raised his free hand and traced a gentle finger down Bilbo’s cheek and along his jaw, and Bilbo let out an involuntary whimper.

Thorin’s voice became deeper, quieter, more intense, and the sound of it sent pleasurable shivers all the way down to Bilbo’s very core, “I want it to be because you need me as much as I need you, because you wish to open yourself and have me in you, surrounding you and filling you so completely that you will never crave the touch of another for as long as you live.”

Bilbo felt like he was floating, anchored only by his tight grip on Thorin’s hand. He gradually realised that he was nodding fervently and whimpering,

“Yes! Yes, Thorin, _please_ , I want all of that, please let me have it, please take me!”

Thorin growled possessively in response, and then growled again, this time more annoyed, when his attempt to sweep Bilbo into his arms was thwarted by the gate that was still between them.

The opening of the gate was somewhat hindered by the fact that neither Thorin nor Bilbo wanted to let go of each other for any length of time. Eventually, however, with Glorfindel’s calm help and resourcefulness, the gate was opened and Bilbo stumbled forward and was finally, perfectly, swept into Thorin’s arms and held securely.

Thorin’s lips descended on his own; they were surprisingly soft, yet possessive and filled with a fierce sense of relief. Bilbo had never been kissed by someone that he had wanted to kiss back, and it took him a few moments to school his own lips into responding properly. He quickly found that the easiest (and most pleasing) thing to do was open his mouth to Thorin and allow himself to be plundered by Thorin’s tongue, which stroked the inside of Bilbo’s mouth until he was weak and moaning and desperately wishing that they were in a more private setting.

Eventually, gasping for breath, Bilbo pulled his mouth away and buried his face into the crook of Thorin’s shoulder, finally able to properly scent his alpha.

“My own perfect love,” Thorin murmured, in a hoarse voice, into Bilbo’s hair. “My sweet Bilbo, is this what you want?”

Bilbo lifted his head from where he had been nuzzling it into Thorin’s neck.

“Yes, my alpha,” he replied. His mouth was slick and swollen from Thorin’s kisses, his feet were dangling in the air as Thorin held him, and his heart finally and completely whole. “This is _exactly_ what I want.”

***

[My tumblr](heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THAT BLOODY TOOK THEM LONG ENOUGH. But we're there! I promise that the bulk of miscommunication between our heroes is over now. From now on, they will only face trivial things, like Azog. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are the all-important grist to the mill of my writing. Or something. Who knows, maybe a comment would have made that metaphor better...


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin finally communicate like Proper People.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLD THE PHONE. CAN IT BE? IS IT REALLY SHE-WHO-KEEPS-SAYING-SHE'LL-UPDATE-REGULARLY-BUT-WHOSE-PANTS-ARE-CLEARLY-ON-FIRE-BECAUSE-SHE-MAKES-PROMISES-SHE-CAN'T-KEEP? 
> 
> IT IS. 
> 
> I can only prostrate myself at your feet and beg for forgiveness, offering this humble chapter up as a gift of appeasement. 
> 
> There's smut, but beware, I am British and therefore very insecure at writing those sorts of shenanigans, so it may not be great. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_jane, who not only edits fabulously, but pesters, sorry, encourages, me to update when the length of time between chapters has just become stupid. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Coming down the hill, his hand securely and snugly tucked into the crook of Thorin’s arm (a good thing, since Bilbo’s legs were still feeling pleasantly wobbly, and it provided him with an excuse to keep touching Thorin), Bilbo allowed his mind to drift off into vague dreams and plans for the future. The future that was, all of a sudden, looking exceptionally bright, complete with cuddles and love, maybe even pups one day...

Lost in this pleasant haze, he didn’t realise where Thorin was guiding them until they were almost there. Bilbo looked at the lodge that, only that morning, he had run out of so distraught. A pang of nervousness coursed through him suddenly. It occurred to him that though they’d begun to improve their communications with one another, they’d not really talked about a time-scale for the more… _physical_ aspects of their relationship. Bilbo didn’t know if Thorin was expecting them to fully mate and bond that very evening, or if there was some other courtship length that was customary, or even if it was _possible_ to bond fully without a heat taking place.  

All Bilbo really knew was, much as he wanted Thorin down to the very fibre of his being, he wasn’t ready for a full mating yet. There was still too much uncertainty, too many raw emotions, too much that hadn’t yet been said and done. Old-fashioned though it might be, Bilbo had always imagined that a mating would only occur after a traditional bonding ceremony. Add that to the years of being bullied and told that he wasn’t good enough for any self-respecting alpha to properly wish to bond with him, Bilbo felt that it probably wasn’t surprising that he wasn’t ready to immediately jump into a mating.

Bilbo knew his own mind. Now it was just a question of speaking his mind to Thorin without making his new alpha feel rejected.

And they didn’t have a _brilliant_ track record when it came to that sort of thing.

Neverthless, Bilbo steeled himself to try, before it was too late.

“Thorin,” he said, timidly. “Are you…um…what exactly are you expecting us to do once we get back to our lodging?”

Thorin slowed his pace so he could look down at Bilbo.

“I’d not fully thought it through,” he said, with a wry laugh. “I’ve been so pre-occupied with getting you alone and in my arms, I fear I have neglected to make specific plans!”

“I just…I thought I should mention that I…I’m not really, um, ready to do the whole, uh, _full mating_ thing, just yet,” Bilbo managed to stammer out. Immediately Thorin’s scent took on a tang, not of anger as Bilbo had half-feared would be the case, but a sour note of sadness and rejection.

“Nononononono! I’m sorry, I’m not rejecting you!” Bilbo almost squawked in his hurry to stop Thorin feeling that pain. “I plan to keep you for the rest of my life.” He grabbed Thorin’s face and forced the alpha to meet his eyes. “I wish to be yours. Thorin, my love and my alpha. It’s just that…since we met, all we’ve done is run from Azog, and misunderstand each other, and we’ve never had a moment where we can just… _stop_ , and enjoy each other’s company.” Thorin’s scent calmed slightly, and his arm rubbed soothingly up and down Bilbo’s arm. Heartened, Bilbo continued speaking, turning and continuing their walk.

“I’ve never been courted by someone I actually liked,” he said, rubbing Thorin’s arm soothingly when his scent immediately became tangy and bitter with rage. “No, my love, no need to be angry about that, not now. My point is that I’d rather like to be courted by someone who has already won me, with the knowledge that we _will_ be wed and mated when the time is right, just _not yet_. Does that make any sense, my love?”

Thorin looked down at Bilbo with a smile, and dropped a light kiss on Bilbo’s curls.

“My sweetling,” he said, “It makes perfect sense. We shall court, and then we shall wed, and _then_ we shall mate. I would not have it any other way.”

 _Goodness me_ , Bilbo thought as they carried on up the hill to the lodge. _Elrond may have been right about the advantages of communication, after all._

_***_

Sitting down on the cushions in the middle of the room, Bilbo sighed in relief. They really were very comfortable. Then he sighed in irritation at Thorin, who was hovering rather awkwardly, evidently taking Bilbo’s words about a slow courtship rather more severely than Bilbo had intended. Impatiently, Bilbo reached out his arms, and his sighs became satisfied once again as Thorin obligingly settled down into the cushions and drew Bilbo into the circle of his arms.

Thorin immediately buried his nose in the crook of Bilbo’s neck, scenting him thoroughly and huffing contentedly. Bilbo tilted his head back to give his alpha better access, and allowed himself to drift on a cloud of comfort and pleasure.

He came back to himself some indeterminate time later, when Thorin’s gentle huffs become heavier, and his lips began to brush against Bilbo’s skin. Soon enough, these soft kisses became firmer and more open-mouthed. Bilbo gasped as Thorin sucked gently on the sensitive skin just behind his ear.

“When you said you’d like to court for a while,” Thorin murmured, his voice rumbling through into Bilbo’s ear and into his very bones, “exactly how slowly did you envision us taking things?”

“I…” Bilbo stuttered, too lost in pleasure to think straight (and Good Heavens, didn’t _that_ bode well for his coherence when they actually got to mating). Unfortunately, Thorin took the absence of Bilbo’s words as an absence of consent, and immediately withdrew his embrace.

Later, Bilbo would be glad that he had an alpha who would stop pursuing his own pleasure as soon as he thought Bilbo’s was compromised, but in the moment all Bilbo could register was that one moment Thorin had been gloriously, _perfectly_ up against him and touching him, and the next Bilbo’s alpha had left him bereft of touch.

Bilbo made a whining noise (of which he was not proud) and turned so that he was straddling Thorin’s lap and looking into his face.

“I meant,” he said, staring into Thorin’s eyes for a moment before turning his attention to all the _(lovely)_ places on Thorin’s face that he had not yet kissed, “that there’ll be no knotting, no mating, until we are married. What I _didn’t_ mean, is that you’re allowed to stop touching me now. In fact,” Bilbo continued, “If you don’t put your hands and your mouth back on me _right this instant_ , you and I are going to have a problem, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin grinned, a smile that somehow managed to be wild and happy and relieved and possessive at the same time, and tugged Bilbo towards him so that their lips met.

As Thorin positively devoured his mouth, Bilbo anchored one of his hands in Thorin’s thick braids, and slid his other hand down to Thorin’s shirt. Thankfully, Thorin had evidently left in such a hurry that morning, he was only wearing the shirt he had slept in. Bilbo started to fumble at the laces over Thorin’s chest, until finally, triumphantly, he was able to slide the garment up and over Thorin’s head, while Thorin returned the favour for Bilbo’s own shirt. This did mean detaching at the mouth for a moment (which made Bilbo whimper and Thorin growl), but in no time at all, Bilbo was licking at Thorin’s lips and running his hands all over his alpha’s strong chest and shoulders while Thorin stroked gently over Bilbo’s waist and hips.

Thorin gradually drew his hands up higher, the callouses on his palms catching on Bilbo’s nipples, and making Bilbo mewl like a kitten and arch his back to push the sensitive peaks further into Thorin’s grip.

Feeling the buzz of arousal become more intense and demanding, Bilbo unconsciously began to rub his hardness against Thorin’s. Immediately recognising Bilbo’s need, Thorin reached down the back of Bilbo’s breeches to rub a finger against his hole.

The dry (although getting slicker by the second, thanks to Bilbo’s arousal), gentle rub of the finger against his entrance, coupled with the continued pressure from Thorin’s other hand on his nipples and the feeling of Thorin’s mouth on his own, set Bilbo bucking and crying out.  It only took a few more moments until Bilbo was convulsing , slick coursing out of him and wetting Thorin’s hand, as cum erupted from his cock.

Bilbo collapsed, boneless, against Thorin’s chest, nuzzling the surprisingly soft black hairs there.

He came back to himself after a few seconds, to realise that Thorin was still grunting and making aborted thrusts with his hips, although he was clearly trying to hold back until he was sure Bilbo was ready.

Trying (and mostly succeeding) to co-ordinate his limbs, Bilbo slid down the length of Thorin’s body until he was settled between his alpha’s legs. He undid the ties on Thorin’s breeches and slid them down, allowing Thorin’s cock to spring free.

Bilbo paused for a moment to admire this appendage. It was long and thick, with a slightly bigger bulge at the base where the knot would form. Bilbo wanted it _in him._

He knew they weren’t ready for that, however, so instead he reached behind himself and used his own slick to liberally coat his hands before taking hold of Thorin’s cock. It was so big, it took both of Bilbo’s hands to get all the way round it, and Bilbo was worried for a moment that they wouldn’t be enough.

He needn’t have worried, however: Thorin let out a groan like a wounded animal, and started to thrust into Bilbo’s grip. Before long he was emitting a long-drawn-out growl, and coming.

There was just… _so much cum_ , compared to Bilbo’s own small cock, and Bilbo was almost entranced by the sight of the pearly liquid spurting from his alpha’s cock. Even though there was no knot (nor would there be until Thorin was inside Bilbo), Thorin still seemed to come for a long time before he was spent.

Bilbo put a hand to his cheek, where some of Thorin’s seed had landed, and experimentally stuck his fingers in his mouth to see how it tasted. It was, surprisingly, not too bad, mixed as it was with Bilbo’s own, much sweeter, slick. The move obviously had a decent effect on Thorin, who groaned and pull Bilbo up to kiss him and lick the taste out of his mouth.

They lay like that for a while, kissing and touching with no purpose other than a lazy kind of pleasure, until Bilbo became aware that he was rather uncomfortably sticky. Thorin chuckled at the face Bilbo made, then picked up his shirt, wetted it from the basin of water on the side, and wiped them both down.

Bilbo snuggled happily into Thorin’s embrace as the alpha pulled a soft blanket over them and laid a kiss on the top of Bilbo’s head.

Blissful, Bilbo slept.

***

Come and hang out on [my tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and comments give me life and great joy. 
> 
> And I promise there will be more smut! And I shall continue to apologise every time it happens! *throws flowers*
> 
> I shan't make any promises about when I will next update, for I have learned that thattaway lies madness. If in future notes I forget myself and venture to comment on how soon the next chapter will be up, please do feel free to give me a virtual smack and tell me to stop being silly. 
> 
> Thank you in advance.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang finds out about Bilbo and Thorin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAVE YOUR FAINTING COUCHES AT THE READY MY FRIENDS, FOR I AM HERE WITH AN UPDATE. 
> 
> I am The Worst. You all know this by now, and if you are still sticking with this story, you are The Best. We balance each other out nicely. 
> 
> Edited by Ismene_jane, who is in your ranks as a fellow The Best. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Late that afternoon, Bilbo, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on where his and Thorin’s hands were intertwined, gathered up the courage to ask a question:

“So…how will this all work when we get back to Erebor?” he asked. “I presume there are…rituals, and traditions, and I’d rather not get any of it wrong and give your subjects more ammunition against me than they will have anyway.”

Thorin hummed gently and raised their linked hands to his mouth, kissing over Bilbo’s fingers.

“First of all, my subjects won’t be looking for a way to bring you down,” he replied. “You will find our community is very different from yours in that way.” He let out a rather un-princely snort. “If anything, my love, you will be hailed as the hero who saved me.”

Bilbo sputtered a little at that.

“And how, exactly, have I managed that?” he asked. Thorin smiled gently at him.

“Alphas and omegas are very different in our society than they are in the one you have been used to,” Thorin began to explain. “You already know that, to my people, omegas are precious and treasured. This is not simply because of their child-bearing abilities or some of their more…pleasurable--” (Bilbo blushed) “--…attributes. It’s because, without an omega, an alpha is never going to become the best version of his or her self. Alphas without omegas are often only really good for raw strength and aggression. We are prone to losing control to rage, or passion, or aggression, or any other strong emotion – never enough for it to be an excuse for something we may have done, but enough to cause…tension.

“An omega, however…An omega can choose their alpha, and from the moment that there is a bond between them, the alpha becomes more grounded, more able to deal with stressful emotions and situations, more prepared to think before leaping into action.” Thorin smiled at Bilbo, and dropped a feather-light kiss on his temple. “Just like you reined me in when I was in my alpha rage, omegas temper the heat of alphas. There’s a reason why alphas are often better warriors, and omegas superior tacticians, although there are of course exceptions.” He laughed fondly. “Like Kili, who is far too hot-headed to even consider thinking before acting, and Fili, who usually has to restrain his omega brother from leaping into bar fights and the like. As you have seen, however, I give in to the stereotype. I am grumpy and impatient, and,” Thorin’s hands tightened around Bilbo’s waist, “ _very_ possessive.”

Bilbo twisted to look at Thorin.

“So…according to the customs of your people, finding me has made you a better person, a better alpha?” He asked.

“Essentially, yes,” Thorin replied, giving Bilbo another squeeze.

“And you realise that that makes very little sense to me?” Bilbo pursued. Thorin chuckled before pressing another kiss to the side of Bilbo’s neck.

“I do understand, my love,” he replied. “I shall simply have to make it my mission to persuade you that you have been making me a better alpha and a better person since the moment we met.”

***

That evening, they left the lodge on Thorin’s insistence that he owed it to his company to inform them that he was now Bilbo’s intended. He also (using a horrifyingly effective version of his omega nephew’s guileless puppy-dog eyes) said that he wanted to show Bilbo off, so everyone would see the blessing that Bilbo was to Thorin.

Bilbo was more of the opinion that Thorin wanted them to be seen in public to satisfy his sense of alpha possessiveness, but he happily yielded and ventured out with his alpha, arm in arm.

They found the rest of their company grouped around a fountain. Kili, Fili, Bifur, Bombur, Dori, Ori, and (not of his own free will, if the looks directed at his elder brother were any indication) Nori were bathing, while the others looked on and paddled.

Bofur was the first to see Bilbo and Thorin approaching hand-in-hand.

“Finally!” He crowed, splashing water at the others to get their attention. “Our fearless leader approaches, by th’looks o’ things, having actually _talked_ to his mate!”

Thorin mock-growled at Bofur’s words and swiped at the hat that was perched at a jaunty angle atop Bofur’s head. He successfully knocked it off, and laughed as Bofur squawked and dived into the fountain to retrieve it.

“You seem at least to be in better spirits, Uncle,” Fili said, pulling on a pair of breeches as he walked towards them.

Now, let it be known that Bilbo had eyes only for Thorin. But he would have had to be blind not to notice the expanse of muscled golden chest that was suddenly coming towards him. Fili was crafted from the same mould as his uncle, and Yavanna, it was really a _very nice_ mould. No-one could blame Bilbo for the slight squeak he made when Fili’s arm flexed _just so_ as he towelled his hair. And to be fair, the squeak was more to do with the idea of _Thorin_ flexing like that and what he could be doing that would _make_ him flex like that.

Great, now Bilbo’s inner monologue was getting defensive.

“No ogling the nephew,” Thorin growled playfully into Bilbo’s ear. “You’re mine now, and I refuse to share.”

That sent a pleasurable shiver down Bilbo’s spine, and he stood on tiptoes and bit Thorin’s ear lobe in gentle retaliation.

“As if I could give thought to another when I have such perfection standing in front of me. Perfection that is _all mine,_ ” he whispered back.

By the slightly uncomfortable throat-clearing, Fili had heard the exchange. Certainly by the time Bilbo wrenched his gaze away from Thorin and back to Fili, the young alpha was shifting from one foot to the other and clutching a shirt to his chest. Kili saved his brother from this awkwardness by coming up, throwing a wet towel in his face, giving Bilbo a smacking kiss on the cheek, and leaping into Thorin’s arms.

“Finally sorted yourselves out, have you?” he asked loudly, blithely ignoring Fili’s scandalised,” _Kili_!”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Thorin said, unceremoniously dumping his nephew onto the floor, “but yes.” He looked at Bilbo and his eyes took on a soft look that made Bilbo want to blush and squirm and drag Thorin back to the room they had just vacated.

Dwalin interrupted them, coming up and touching his forehead lightly to Thorin’s. Thorin pulled slightly away from Bilbo to envelop Dwalin in a brotherly embrace. As they murmured quietly to one another, Bilbo turned to Fili and Kili, who were still standing close by.

“We are truly happy for you, Bilbo,” Fili said gently.

“We are indeed, Uncle Bilbo!” Kili supported. Bilbo felt a wave of affection at their earnest expressions.

“Thank you both,” he said, holding out his hand and grasping Kili’s. “I only hope that your people at home will be as accepting.”

“Your people too, now,” Fili said, at the same time that Kili snorted and said,

“You have nothing to fear, Bilbo. Most of our – of _your_ – people will love you, and be happy to see Thorin happy, and those who aren’t can answer personally to me.”

Fili forgot himself so far as to give a snort that sounded identical to his brother’s.

“And, more importantly, as soon as our mother meets you, you will have the most fearsome champion this side of the Grey Havens.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Bilbo asked, trying to hide the apprehensive note in his voice. He must have failed somewhat because Thorin’s hand reached out to slide once more into his. But Bilbo worried. Thorin’s sister, from the references and scraps of information that he had picked up, was a formidable woman who ruled her sons, her people, and even her king, with an iron fist. Surely such a woman could never countenance her brother being mated with a commoner, an omega who had been rejected by his own people.

What possible reason could a Princess have to accept Bilbo as a brother-in-law?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Kili squeezing his hand, and Fili speaking.

“You know how Uncle Thorin is?” Fili asked. “The way he just…leads, and knows that people will fall into step behind him? The way he knows exactly how he feels about everything?”

“And, _more importantly,_ the way that he is absolutely wrapped around your little finger?” Kili added.

Bilbo blushed, but nodded, and felt by the squeeze of his other hand that Thorin was now listening to the conversation.

“Well,” Fili continued, “Ma is the same as Thorin, but…”

“Better,” Thorin supplied.

“An _omega_ ,” Kili said proudly.

“She will love you, and she will make sure everyone knows it,” Fili finished.

Bilbo blinked away the moisture that had somehow made its way into his eyes.

“And in any case, you already have the support of most of the rest of Thorin’s council,” Kili said.

“How is that possible?” Bilbo asked.

“Well, as Captain of the Guard, Dwalin has a seat on the council, then there’s Nori, who’s Master of Coin, Bifur and Bofur deal with most trade deals, Dori is in charge of mining operations, Gloin is in charge of the smiths, and Balin is just all-round wise advisor. Oh, and Fili’s there as the heir to the throne, of course,” Kili added as an afterthought.

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And none of you thought that, perhaps, you shouldn’t allow _most of your government as well as the heir_ to go running off to who knows where for who knows how long?”

Thorin and Fili had the good grace to look a little guilty at that.

“We are alphas,” Thorin said, after a pause. “We all have personal connections to at least one of the omegas who were captured.”

“We panicked,” Fili added sheepishly.

Bilbo threw up his hands.

“When we get home, we are having a serious talk about not letting _almost your entire power structure_ all run off at the same time, alright?” He frowned, confused, at Thorin’s soft, wide-eyed look. “What?”

“You called it home,” Thorin said.

Bilbo blushed ( _again_ , what was _wrong_ with him?) and cleared his throat.

“Yes, well, that is what it will be so that is what I shall call it,” he said. Thorin slipped an arm around him and pressed a fervent kiss to his temple.

“You are coping with all this very well,” he observed.

“They make it easy by being so happy for us,” Bilbo replied.

“Insufferably smug, more like,” Thorin muttered, directing a look of wounded validation at Bilbo a moment later as Balin came up, saying, “Finally!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may not seem like it, but I swear to you that comments and feedback make me go faster. At the very least, they make me feel guilty that I'm letting down such lovely people, and that provides a motivation of its own kind.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last evening with Elrond before our intrepid heroes continue on their journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY LOOK WHO'S STILL ALIVE AND ALSO DREADFUL AT UPDATING. There's no excuse. All I can definitely say is that I'm not abandoning this fic. I'm just taking a really, really, exasperatingly long time to write it. 
> 
> Thanks and love as ever to Ismene_Jane, who does wonderful things like add in full stops in order to save you lovely chaps from reading an 1800-word sentence. 
> 
> A spot o' plot and some smut on which to glut. (And those rhymes there are as good as my writing ever gets OK I am sorry)
> 
> Enjoy!

There was a celebration that evening, in a hall that was the match of the one in The Sanctuary: graceful and airy but also cosy. Ostensibly the evening was a farewell for the company as a whole for their last night, but by the number of congratulations Bilbo received, it felt much more like some sort of engagement party.

The idea filled him with what felt like terror, but with a warm edge to it that suggested it wasn’t all bad.

Once the main meal had been cleared away, the tables were moved to the sides of the hall. Rugs and cushions were placed in a rough circle around the fire in the middle of the floor, and people started to sit. Elrond was seated with two omega boys and an alpha girl who all looked too similar to him to be anything other than his children. Fili was sitting uncomfortably straight, surrounded by a group of young omegas who seemed rather smitten. They flirted with (or rather, at) Fili, while Kili rolled on the floor in laughter a few feet away. Ori had immediately pulled Dwalin down to snuggle into a whole pile of pale pink pillows. Dwalin’s disgruntled face soon softened as Ori arranged alpha and pillows into a nest and then clambered onto Dwalin’s lap. Balin and Dori were in quiet conversation as Nori, Oin, and Gloin played cards. Bofur was sharing the contents of a flagon of wine with a smitten-looking alpha as Bifur and Bombur pretended not to notice.

Thorin had already commandeered a huge, soft-looking cushion, and he held a hand out to Bilbo with an expression that invited rather than commanded. Bilbo happily took it, and sat down nestled into Thorin’s side.

The evening’s entertainment was very relaxed, with an open floor to anyone who wanted to sing, play music, read poetry or prose, or perform in any way. Glorfindel even danced with knives, which was graceful, hypnotic, and _terrifying_.

Eventually, Bofur was “persuaded” (he volunteered) to perform. He went for it with gusto, singing some ditty about a cow jumping over the moon and a cat with a fiddle. It was the least dirty song Bilbo had ever heard Bofur sing, yet he still managed to make it _sound_ dirty, and the way he was wiggling his hips and winking at his new alpha friend weren’t helping.

Once Bofur had finished, and dragged the alpha off to some dark corner to do Yavanna-knows-what to her, Dori persuaded (bullied) Nori to do some sleight of hand (under the strict condition that he return everything he made “disappear” during his act at the end of his performance) and Ori to play the harp. The melody that Ori played was not one Bilbo knew, but it was slow and sweet and haunting, and made Bilbo’s heart feel like it was burning and melting and growing three sizes all at once. His only outlet for this feeling was to press himself closer to Thorin, so that was what he did. Thorin made no protest, and cuddled Bilbo tightly to him.

Ori finished and returned to Dwalin amidst thunderous applause. Bilbo saw Dwalin swipe surreptitiously at his own cheeks before pulling Ori to him and burying his face in the omega’s neck.

Bilbo was busy watching Ori returning the embrace just as tightly, which is why he missed the first time his name was called. The second time, however, Balin called louder, and Thorin punctuated the call with an affectionate little shake.

“Hm?” said Bilbo.

“I was saying perhaps it is time for you to make good on the promise of a poetry reading, laddie,” Balin said patiently.

Other voices added to Balin’s, entreating Bilbo to perform. Eventually he gave in and reluctantly left Thorin’s arms to take his place in the middle of the circle. Bringing out from his breast pocket the little book that Thorin had saved for him, Bilbo knew which one he was going to read. He’d never truly understood it before, never fully believing that such a feeling was possible. Now, with Thorin, he was beginning to change his mind.

He locked eyes with Thorin, and began.

“I cry your mercy—pity—love!—ay, love!  
Merciful love that tantalises not  
One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,  
Unmask’d, and being seen—without a blot!  
O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine!  
That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest  
Of love, your kiss,—those hands, those eyes divine,  
That warm, white, lucent, million-pleasured breast,—  
Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,  
Withhold no atom’s atom or I die,  
Or living on, perhaps, your wretched thrall,  
Forget, in the mist of idle misery,  
Life’s purposes,—the palate of my mind  
Losing its gust, and my ambition blind!”

Bilbo finished and immediately gave an awkward little bow before attempting to scurry back into the shadows to hide for a while. The thunderous applause was most gratifying, but he blushed and kept his eyes fixed on the floor as soon as he saw Fili and Kili’s knowing grins. The best thing now was to make a quick escape and try not to be too embarrassed. He was too slow, however, and had not even reached the ring of cushions before his hand was caught and fervently kissed. Thorin pulled him out of the hall and into the warm night air. Bilbo went easily, feeling extremely reassured.

***

“That was…Do you have any idea how fucking much I want you right now?” Thorin growled as he pushed Bilbo up against the closest pillar. The stone was cool against Bilbo’s flushed skin and he groaned as Thorin latched on to his neck, sucking at the skin there until Bilbo felt his knees buckle. In response, Thorin bent down, cupped his hands under Bilbo’s buttocks and straightened again, pulling Bilbo into the air with his legs wrapped around Thorin’s hips.

Bilbo let out a whimper and tucked his face into the crook of Thorin’s neck, desire and relief overwhelming him until all he could do was breathe in his alpha’s scent in deep gulps. On hearing Bilbo’s laboured breaths, Thorin stilled.

“Are you alright, my love?” he murmured, breath warm on Bilbo’s scalp. “We can stop, if this is too much. Just say the word.”

Bilbo whined at the idea of losing all that hot alpha body pressed against the length of his own.

“Please don’t stop,” he panted, dragging Thorin’s mouth back down to his neck. His alpha obediently went back to the very important task of laving the tender skin of Bilbo’s throat.

Bilbo threaded his hands through Thorin’s hair and scratched his fingers gently along Thorin’s scalp. This elicited a growly rumble of pleasure that vibrated its way from Thorin’s throat, along Bilbo’s chest and right down to his toes. He tightened his legs around Thorin’s hips, and in response Thorin took his hands off Bilbo’s buttocks and slid them up his shirt, and _Yavanna_ , those sweetly rough hands, those clever fingers, all their attention was focused on nipples that peaked eagerly under the attention and sent pleasure zinging all over Bilbo’s body.

“Please,” Bilbo whimpered, “please…never stop…” he tightened his legs further, giving Thorin the chance to thrust their crotches together. Feeling Thorin’s hardness so close to where his hole was leaking and empty was exquisite torture. Bilbo writhed, trying to coax Thorin’s cock to tease at his entrance, even through the layers of their breeches.

Thorin groaned and shuddered, and in seemingly no time at all he was tensing and biting into Bilbo’s neck, which in turn sent Bilbo’s eyes rolling back into his head as he came.

After they had both caught their breath somewhat, Bilbo made to get down from where he was still wrapped around Thorin, only to be stopped by Thorin’s arms holding him close. Before he could protest, however, Thorin strode off, carrying Bilbo in the direction of their lodgings.

“Not feeling like going back to the festivities?” Bilbo asked teasingly, rubbing his cheek against Thorin’s stubble. All he got in return was a grunt that managed to be both amused and solidly anti-seeing-anyone-else-right-now.

Bilbo smiled and rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder, content to be carried.

***

By the time the company was ready to leave the next morning to continue with their journey, Bilbo was conscious of a definite pang in his heart. It was a bittersweet feeling to be departing a place that had caused him such happiness, as well as welcoming and affirming him so thoroughly.

Before they left, Elrond came up to say a final farewell.

“Remember, Bilbo, your worth is as great as any alpha’s. You are important, and it has nothing to do with your presentation, or who your mate is.” He laid a kiss on Bilbo’s forehead, then stepped back to address them all.

“I trust you will have a safe journey home,” he said, “But in case the monsters who were pursuing you have not yet given up, I am sending a troop with you, headed by Glorfindel, who will see you safely as far as Mirkwood.”

“That is very kind,” Thorin replied, “but we will not be going through Mirkwood.”

Elrond frowned.

“Why not? It is by far the quickest way to get back to your own lands. To go any other route would add days onto the length of your journey.”

“Grandfather and Uncle do not have a very…peaceful relationship with the king in Mirkwood,” Fili explained to Bilbo in an undertone.

Dwalin, who was close by, muttered, “that’s one bugger of an understatement,” but was quickly shushed by Ori.

Thorin and Elrond were still debating routes.

“We will have the horses with which you provided us; they will make the journey no longer than if we were taking the shorter route on foot.”

Elrond stepped closer to Thorin and lowered his voice.

“You have omegas with you who are being targeted by a band of notorious rapists and slavers. We killed those who were attacking your group, but Azog and the greater part of his force ran back into the forest before we could finish them. It would be prudent to assume that when you are back on the road, he will come for Bilbo, Kili, Ori, Dori, and Bofur. Mirkwood will be safer for them.”

“Are you implying that I cannot protect the omegas under my care?” Thorin asked fiercely. Elrond sighed, and stared Thorin down.

“Valar save me from touchy alphas,” he snapped. “Depending on how many men Azog has under his command, you might be able to fight them off. Maybe. The question is, why would you risk your people, and mine, on a needlessly long and exposed journey when you can travel, _protected_ , through the lands of an ally? You may not _like_ him, but Thranduil is allied with you. Endangering those whom you lead and protect for the sake of petty pride is not the action of a good king or a good alpha, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin looked like he might be about to argue, but then he looked over at Bilbo, at his nephews, at his friends and subjects, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“You are right, Elrond,” he said. “We will do as you advise, and go through Mirkwood.”

***

[My tumblr](http://heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it must be hard to imagine how I could physically go slower at this point, but I promise that comments and feedback really do help me go faster, as well as making my day and causing me to do all sorts of happy, wiggly things with my limbs. And I always reply to them in the end, I promise!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guys get to Mirkwood and gear up to swappin' some sass with certain blonde royals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shuffles in at the back, over a year late, diffidently proffering this small chapter in hopes that you don't all hate me*
> 
> I'm so sorry. 
> 
> Edited gloriously, as always, by the incomparable (and very patient) Ismene-Jane

The leg of the journey to Mirkwood was mostly uneventful. A few times, Bilbo saw what were probably Azog’s men on the horizon, but apart from one minor skirmish (which Glorfindel dealt with all by himself), they stayed away. While they were always following and watching, they never engaged.

Although Bilbo was conscious of pangs of worry about the tenacity and intentions of Azog and his thugs, for the most part he just didn’t have the time to think about it. His days and his thoughts were far more pleasantly and informatively occupied. Balin and Dori gave him instruction in court etiquette: what his rights and duties as Thorin’s intended, and subsequently his mate, would be, and how they would change when Thorin ascended to the throne (“`Prince Bilbo’ sounds ridiculous!” Bilbo complained. “I think it suits you,” Thorin replied ,pressing a kiss into Bilbo’s temple).

Ori was able to talk for hours about the history of Erebor and its unbroken line of rulers; the descendants of a King Durin. Dwalin interposed occasionally to give extra information about specific wars and battles fought by his people. Oin and Bombur were experts on Erebor’s cuisine and traditional dishes, and never failed to make Bilbo’s mouth water. Nori proved surprisingly knowledgeable about the economy (“why are you surprised?” asked Thorin. “It is his job to know all about it,”), and Gloin was masterful in his explanations about the mining and the smithies. Bofur taught Bilbo the traditional songs of the kingdom – though Bilbo was suspicious about how accurate some of the lyrics were, by the way Bifur sniggered. Fili and Kili were thoroughly entertaining in their anecdotes about their mother, their extended family, and of course King Thrain.

And through it all, Thorin remained at Bilbo’s side, infecting everyone around him with his joyful anticipation of the future. He added information and encouragement to Bilbo’s lessons by day, and held him close on their shared pallet at night.

The threat of Azog remained, but felt somehow diminished – Eerebor’s company had horses now, and extra fighters, and for the first time since his parents died, Bilbo felt safe in the knowledge that he was loved and protected. That he _belonged_.

That feeling of safety faded a little as they came to the borders of Mirkwood. The trees were dark and ancient, entwined with one another until they formed what looked like an impenetrable canopy, preventing the sun from shining down into the forest below.

“We’re going…in there?” Ori asked timidly. Nori snorted.

“Have you forgotten where you’re from, Ori?” he asked. “Our people have never been afraid of the dark--ow!” He rubbed the back of his head, where he had received simultaneous smacks from Dori and Dwalin, both of whom were scowling at him. Ori just shrugged and crossed his arms.

“This is a different kind of dark,” he said. “It’s damp, and alive, and _oppressive_ , somehow.”

Glorfindel laid a comforting hand on Ori’s shoulder.

“Fear not, Master Ori,” he said, in his silvery voice. “Only Mirkwood’s borders are kept like this. Once we get past them, you will find the forest a far more welcoming place. King Thranduil is not…overly fond of visitors, and this is one of the ways in which he deters travellers from coming to his halls unexpectedly.” Thorin snorted.

“Do not expect Thranduil to be as excellent a host as Elrond,” he murmured to Bilbo. “The sooner we are through that forest, the better.”

Although Thorin was the most vocal about his reluctance, several of his companions also seemed uncomfortable. Dwalin had his arm firmly around Ori’s shoulders, and was glowering at Mirkwood as though it had offered him personal insult. Gloin was muttering under his breath and rubbing his thumb along the hilt of his shortsword.  Balin was also staring hard at the forest, though his gaze seemed more sad than angry. That concerned Bilbo almost more than anger.

Nonetheless, it was clear that while Azog was not currently looking for a direct conflict, he was following behind too closely for them to be able to risk going any route other than through Mirkwood. Bilbo slipped a hand into Thorin’s, giving a reassuring squeeze and receiving one in return, and stepped into the forest.

***

Under the thick canopy of leaves, it was dank, and dark, and smelled of rotting plants and mouldy bark. The path was unkempt and only wide enough for single file, so Bilbo followed along behind Thorin, taking care to stay on the uneven stones. The ground on either side of the path faded quickly into the darkness between the looming trees, and Bilbo felt instinctively that anyone foolish enough to leave the relative safety of the path would soon regret it. A few times, he heard rustling, skittering noises in the trees above him, and hurried to move closer to Thorin.

The oppressive atmosphere seemed to have an effect on everyone. Kili had his bow out and an arrow nocked; Bombur was grumbling about being hungry already, and even the gold of Glorfindel’s hair shone less brightly in the gloom.

Finally, a faint light appeared ahead, and the path widened into a clearing where sunlight, denied its reach for so long, streamed down onto grateful plants that responded by turning up their faces and blooming with colour. There was still a thickness to the air, but Bilbo barely noticed it. He was too busy staring at the gates that stood towering before him, almost entwined with the four mighty oaks that rose, high above the rest of the trees, clearly marking the start of Thranduil’s true kingdom.

As he gazed, the doors creaked open. Thorin growled a little and edged closer to Bilbo, standing as close as he could get without physically having his arms around his omega.

A single figure emerged from the shadows within, tall and slender, a bow slung over his shoulder, long hair tied back into a half-braid. As he approached, Thorin’s nostrils flared, and he muttered, “alpha,” in a voice low enough to count as a growl. He finally gave in and wrapped an arm around Bilbo. Bilbo, a little overwhelmed, just leaned into it, barely even thinking about how fast he had come to rely on Thorin’s touch to calm and ground him.

The figure reached them. He smelled of wood, of twine, and, conversely for their surroundings, of clean, fresh breezes.

He bowed formally, his expression wary as his gaze travelled over Thorin and his companions.

“I am Legolas,” he said. “Welcome to my father’s kingdom. Welcome to Mirkwood.”

***

 

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been so long, and if you are still reading this, you are a (gender-neutral) Gentleman and a Scholar, and I thank you most humbly. 
> 
> I'm working on the next chapter, and comments really do motivate me! I'll even answer them all this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback give me life and also make new chapters come more quickly. 
> 
> Come and hang out with me on tumblr! heckamightygadzooks.tumblr.com is where you can find me.


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